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#my tone is calm but I am at my fucking limit
gen-is-gone · 2 months
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I don't even know what I'm supposed to do anymore. Like yes things can very much get worse but they really do not have to
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sillysowa · 10 months
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I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM OML 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Would you be comfortable with writing a hobie x femreader where Hobie walks in on reader pleasing herself. The rest is up to you
THANK YOU ANON!🫶 Absolutely! Here you go~
NEED A HAND?
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PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER
GENRE: SMUT, FLUFF, ENEMIES TO LOVERS?
WORD COUNT: 2.4K
WARNINGS: MASTURBATION, VAGINAL FINGERING, CUNNILINGUS, VAGINAL SEX, DEGRADATION + PRAISE, SPITTING, ‘ANGRY SEX,’ FLUFFY AT THE END
AUTHORS NOTE: I DECIDED TO GO WITH A DYNAMIC WHERE HOBIE AND READER HAVE A COMPETITIVE RELATIONSHIP IN HQ, BUT THEY WANT EACHOTHER
SYNOPSIS: HOBIE WALKS IN ON YOU TOUCHING YOURSELF WHILE MOANING HIS NAME—DIDN’T YOU SAY YOU HATED HIM?
“Hobie fucking Brown with his stupid fucking voice, and his freakishly long fingers! His…his annoying smirk, and his obnoxious fucking style, god!” You groan, stripping out of your clothes furiously and staring down at your underwear—You were wet, actually fucking horny because Hobie decided today was a good day to test your limits. He didn’t do anything necessarily crazy, he just sat right next to you, manspreading with his leg pressed against yours, slinging his arm around your shoulder and placing his hand on your inner thigh when he got up to leave, whispering a deep,
“Y’look absolutely ravishing today.” In your ear like it was no big deal! Who the fuck does that? You’ve both always been sort of competitive with eachother on missions, personalities clashing when you work together. He likes to throw half-mean-half-flirty remarks at you and you like to shut it down. That’s how it goes—but today? Straight up flirting? You couldn’t handle it. You instantly got on your bed and pulled your rose toy out of your night stand, turning it on and spreading your legs.
You felt a little ashamed of yourself, but the moment you felt those sweet vibrations on your clit it all just melted away and thoughts of Hobie between your legs clouded your vision, your heart racing and your skin dampening,
“Fuckkk~” You groan, throwing your head back and panting at the feeling, “Yes, Hobie. Eat my fucking pussy, fuck~” Your moans get louder, the sensations on your most vulnerable spot making you writhe. You can’t stop thinking of Hobie. You think of his face and how good he’d look naked on top you—or his tongue deep inside you after whispering pure filth in your ear, or his piercings and how good they’d feel on your folds—you think of it all, your eyes clamping shut and your free hand hiking your leg up higher by the back of your knee. Your pussy clenched around nothing, your mouth opening as you moan,
“Fuck me, Hobie...”
“Am I interrupting—?”
You cut him off with a gasp, scrambling to clamp your legs shut and cover your breasts. Your mind raced…
What. The. Fuck.
Hobie is standing in a portal in front of your bed, walking through it smugly with his hands in his pockets. He looks shocked, but he’s doing a decent job of remaining calm and collected. You on the other hand…you don’t know how to explain anything, your vibrator still buzzing on your bed and covered in your juices,
“Well isn’t this’a sight f’sore eyes…?” He chuckles, “Here I was thinking you hated my bloody guts but now look at ya…all hot and bothered. Did my teasin’ earlier make your pretty pussy wet? Y’look pretty frustrated y’know, need a hand?” He smirks, slowly removing his guitar and vest. He looks incredibly tall in your room, towering over you on your bed and as he slowly removes his clothes. You finally muster up to the courage to speak,
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You ask, your pussy throbbing at the sight of his toned and smooth skin, his abs and v-line exposed for your hungry eyes to swallow like prey. You genuinely can’t believe what’s happening right now but even worse you can’t believe how much you’re liking it! You literally can’t tear your gaze off of him as he strip-teases for you. You knew you couldn’t fuck him…you work with him! You’re one of Headquarters best and here you were, horny and desperate for a delinquent anarchist…but good god his dick was massive!
He pulled his boxers down and what had to be just shy of ten inches of rock hard dick popped out, springing up just for you. Your mouth gaped open and you shamelessly stared,
“Texted you to tell you there was a change’a plans in tomorrows mission but you weren’t respondin’ so I figured i’d just stop by and tell ya—never knew you’d be flicking the bean and moaning out my name.” He smirks devilishly, coming towards the edge of your bed. He knows you want this by the look in your eyes and the way you let your legs fall open, but he needs to be sure,
“May I?” His voice comes out in a special deep kind of way that you’ve never heard before and your pussy clenches, your spidey senses going wild. You know he feels it cause one of his eyes squints, the strong feeling tugging at his senses, and he smirks when you whine,
“Fuck, yes, p-please just—“
“Shhh relax love, i’ve got you.” Hobie whispers, crawling on top of you and roughly spreading your thighs with a grunt, planting a kiss right on your sensitive clit. He pauses for a moment, locking eyes with you before sucking on it like a lollipop. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your hands twitch, the feeling making you shake,
“O-Oh fuck…Hobie, y-you suck at this.” You lie through your needy sounds, your hands reaching towards his head and thrusting his face deeper against you, the slightly shocked look in his eyes fueling your need and making you feel like you were in charge for a moment. Hobie pops off of you with ease despite your strength, and he web shoots your wrists above your head in a matter of seconds,
“Since y’were begging f’me, I think i’ll just take control, yeah?” Hobie smirks, his lips latched onto your clit instantly, kissing and slurping on it sensually—delivering you the most pleasure you had ever felt.
“Y-you’re, mmf!- such an ass, Hobie~” The room felt hot and your skin felt sticky, his teasing gaze at your words making your pussy gush. You tried to fight back the moans, panting and squirming at his every touch. Hobie wanted to hear you. He slapped your thigh, a yelp escaping from your lips as he slurped you up like you were his last meal. He got all kinds of revved up from your pettiness, rutting his dick into the sheets as he proved to you that not even you knew your body like this,
“You like that don’tcha love?” Hobie growls into your pussy as he does absolutely sinful things with his tongue, things that you didn’t know were possible—the moans were becoming so hard to bite back. You whimpered, your hips bucking against his nose and tongue. Hobie felt the way you pulsated and when he looked at you and saw your eyebrows furrowed the way they were, he knew you were close,
“Give it to me, Y/N, I want it all.” He groans, his tongue working like a machine on your clit, steady rapid pace flicking it just the way you needed to cum all over his face, squirting like you never have before. Your back arched and you tried to hide your face by turning, embarrassed at how fast you came from just Hobie’s tongue. You knew he’d get a kick out of it, and sure enough,
“That good love? Couldn’t have even been more than 5 minutes.” He laughs but he kisses your thighs, licks up the mess, and then reaches for your face. You were surprised when his hands came to your jaw and he looked into your eyes—He kind of looked like he was going to kiss you.
That was when you felt his tip at your entrance, prodding and pushing in. You couldn’t even try to keep quiet, and you could look away as he held your face and his half lidded eyes bored into yours. It was sadistic, that look he gave you while your eyes widened and watered, your lips parting as pained moans spill from your lips—he was huge and he knew it.
“How’s that feel, doll?” He whispers, eyes never leaning yours as he thrusts himself all the way inside your tight cunt. You’re so wet that he doesn’t even have to try to move, his dick ramming inside you like a piston. In contrast, he gently smooths his thumbs over the balls of your cheeks, watching every expression that strikes your features,
“Y-You’re too big—“ You moan, your eyelids twitching and fluttering as your body turns to jelly. You had never felt something so filling in your whole life…of course Hobie had to have the biggest dick you’d ever felt…there was no sly remark you could possibly throw at him when you were breathless just from the first couple of thrusts,
“You’re taking it so well though, hm? Such a good girl.” Hobie groans, sliding his hands down your body and kissing your neck while he grips your hips, “You feel so fucking good. You’re so dirty touching yourself at the thought of me and spreading your legs like a whore at the sight’v my dick,” He grunts out through his moans, thrusting into you and making your whole bed shake. You physically can’t handle the praise and degradation that he throws at you all at once,
“H-Hobie…you’re so fucking annoying!”
“Oh yeah? I’m annoying? Well you’re sobbing on my dick right now, not a good look is it, love?”
You can’t even think as Hobie pulls almost entirely out of you before thrusting into you full speed, leaving you choking on your breaths for a moment. He looks right into your eyes, repeating the same rhythm and smirking at your needy sounds—the way you can’t help but cry out in pleasure each and every time,
“What was that?” He asks, mock pity in his voice, “Too fucked out to answer hm?”
You tug at your restrains, pleasured tears spilling from your eyes as your turn your head, moans tearing out of your throat,
“I-Mmm~ Fuck…Hobie!~ I-I hate you!”
At this, Hobie just comically tilts his head. He knows you don’t hate him, the way your heart beats out of your chest and your ankles lock around his back as he fucks you—even the way you tease him or yell at him—it’s full of want and need…desire even. His pace never relents as he massages your hips, his deep voice making your heart drop,
“Look at me.”
You don’t. You feel embarrassed at how easily he’s gotten you into this submissive state when you’re one of the strongest people at HQ. You just moan and cry, grunting in frustration with every drag of his dick deep inside you,
“Y/N, look at me.” Hobie says in a sultry tone, voice filled with lust. You feel his chill hand creep up to your jaw, refocusing your gaze on him as he snaps into you at a brutal pace, hitting your sweet spot and making your pussy drip. When your eyes lock on his, he looks absolutely irresistible. There’s a sheen layer of sweat clinging to every inch of his skin, and there’s a glow to his features that you had always seen but never like this. You just want him. You have him but you need him. You need him and he needs you, the hand on your jaw tightening as he brings his thumb up to your lips, pulling your lips open. Hobie leans down, thrusting into you and making your bed creak as he spits right onto your tongue. It stuns you like a slap on the face, but it turns you on like nothing before. Your pussy clenches impossibly tighter around Hobie and you swallow his spit, groaning gutturally,
“You’re so fucking nasty.” He groans at the sight, pressing your knees down beside you and thrusting into you with fervor,
“You’re no better.” Is all you say, trying to sound steady even though you’re a mess for him. You’re digging your nails into his back and dragging them down his smooth skin, begging him to go faster as your body convulses. You’re both breathless in passion, too scared to admit that this was more than just sex. You want each other in a debilitating way, in a way so strong that it scares you—so you fuck like crazed animals and chase your release together.
Hobie’s ears tingle at the sound of your moans increasing in pitch and volume, his senses ablaze with the feeling of your warm hands on his back and the sight of your intoxicated gaze. He looks down at you as you throw your hands around his neck and spill pretty noises from your parted lips. Hobie doesn’t know what comes over him but as he nears his orgasm, he leans down slowly, closing the gap between the two of you. There’s no excuse ready in his mind when he sees your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes and back, knowing that you want him as much as he wants you.
“Hobie?” You ask, voice full of need and confusion. You’re feeling desperate, on the edge from him so deep inside you, the pleasure building and your head spinning—but now…now he looks like he’s going to kiss you and that scares you. Not because you don’t want it but because you do. Your heart races as one of his hands finds its way behind your head and the other under your jaw.
“I want to kiss you...I-I really want to kiss you.” His words come out huskily, and his gaze softens as he’s about to cum.
You say nothing. You just hold him in the same endearing way and close the gap, pressing your lips against his gently—a juxtaposition to how his hips desperately ram against yours as you both cum, moaning into the kiss and desperately trying to taste each other, afraid of what comes when the moment is over. Hobie’s eyebrows furrow and he struggles to kiss back, releasing himself inside you before he pulls you up and into his lap, still deep inside. Your naked bodies are moving in tandem—lust, need, hunger, desire, desperation, fear, and love. When you finally break the kiss, you’re both breathless. He looks into your eyes and you look into his. You want nothing more than to shy away from him answering to never have to speak of this…but you both know there’s no going back now. He gently strokes your back, his hold on you secure and comforting. He tore your walls down and destroyed you, and now you’re completely on display for him. It doesn’t feel bad…it feels surprisingly natural to be with him like this.
He holds you close, his chin on your head. You feel the deep vibrations on his vocal cords in his chest as he speaks, “You don’t actually hate me do you?” He chuckles.
“No.” You quickly say, mumbling with your cheek pressed against him, “I think we both knew that though, Hobie.”
@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara
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notafunkiller · 8 months
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wait for hours
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Summary: Bucky and you have a small fight about making him attend a business dinner on your one-year anniversary.
Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x secretary!reader
Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), org@sm denial/edging, teasing, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 1.9K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I wrote this blurb based on @marvelouslizzie’s prompt: “You want me to put it in you, don't you?”
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
You know he is mad. You could sense it right away at work and also in the car. But you don’t regret it, it had to be done.
“Why did you even bring me here if you aren’t gonna talk, James?”
Your head is spinning only from the way he’s pacing around.
He puffs. “You wanna talk now?”
“You are such a kid,” you say, sighing.
“I am the kid?”
You’re surprised by how high his tone is.
“Why are you so bothered? I did what I needed to help you.”
“I don’t care! You knew tonight is off limits. It was supposed to be about us!”
You take a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. You don’t want to fight. You never do when you disagree, and this is silly.
“We can do it another time. We both know how important this is, so why are you so mad?”
“Because this is our one-year anniversary and we always…”
You sigh, standing up. “He wouldn’t have waited, and I don’t care if you think: then his loss. This is your company! You need this investment.”
“You made this decision for me!”
“Good,” you snap. “Someone had to, I wasn’t going to let you waste a great opportunity just cause you are not in the mood for another business dinner.”
He steps toward you so fast you don’t even realize for a second. “Yeah, sorry I am not in the mood for a business dinner when I could be buried inside my girlfriend in our private jet as we fly to Europe.”
“Who said I wanted to go in the first place?” You look him in the eye, challenging him to answer you. You’re not gonna let him intimidate you. Not that he wanted that.
“Then I could have made you come on my tongue after dinner right here.”
You roll your eyes. “All you can think about is sex.”
“All I can think about is you, but you decided to-”
“To do the right thing.” You interrupt him immediately. He’s so stubborn sometimes!
Bucky sighs, bringing his hands to your cheeks. “Are you bored with me?”
What. The. Fuck.
“Are you drunk?” You ask despite knowing it’d be impossible. But how can he ask that?
“Are you bored of me, honey? Is this why you keep me a secret?”
“Bucky!”
“I wanted to make it official like what? A thousand times?”
You sigh, bringing your hands on top of his before leaving a kiss on one of his palms.
“I am not bored of you, Jamie. But work is work. He knows-”
“I want everyone to know!”
You understand, but at the same time there are more consequences to consider before making the decision to get public. “Know what? That you’re fucking me?”
Now this is a thing you regret saying. The expression he has on his face breaks your heart.
“That’s all you think this is?”
Oh, you fucked up! This is not what it is, and you know it. You both had been trying to fight it off, to ignore the tension for over a year. Until you just couldn’t anymore and gave in.
It was clearly more than sex from the start. He didn’t even try to seduce you, and you were only going out on dates for weeks. And if he wanted sex, why he’d make such an effort when you’re sure he can get a girlfriend or a one-night stand or even escort services. He didn’t try to buy you. But would the office understand?
“No, James.” You kiss his other palm, trying to show him how you actually feel. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“When would it be, then? Or would it ever be a good idea?”
He’s more than upset now, his chin is trembling and the way he keeps staring at you makes you want to cry.
Such a horrible situation…
“When I’ll change my job,” you murmur, stroking his cheeks. “This way, they wouldn’t call either of us names and your reputation would-”
“I don’t care about it, okay? About what they’d say about me, and I certainly wouldn’t let them talk shit about you. What you did for the company is amazing.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “I am your secretary, Bucky. My job is to please you and do the best to assure the company’s success.”
“Fucking bullshit!”
“Hey, it’s true. You know very well how people would talk about both of us, and rumors would spread, and sure, men would pat you on the back at first, but some might hate the scandal. And I would be treated like a...” You don’t want to finish your sentence; well aware he knows what you mean. “You cannot protect me from this no matter what you do. And you cannot ruin your company! Do you want to do this just for public claim?”
“I want to hold your hand so badly everywhere...” He sighs, moving his hands from your face to his own hair, pulling it a bit too harshly. “I want to be able to leave with you home and not make Sam wait for you on the parallel street.”
You know and you feel the same way. Sometimes you find yourself imagining how things would be if you gave in and just not care about it, but there’s about so much more than you. You know how important his partnerships are, how hard he actually worked. He might not be a billionaire, but he is very rich and affords many things. He pays everyone well, including you, as wrong as it might sound.
“I’m gonna think about it, okay? I love you so much!” You take a step closer, getting on your tiptoes so you can kiss him a little. “I am sorry for making you feel like this, you’re not my dirty secret. But I don’t regret saying yes to this meeting. You weren’t going to agree, and we both know this is really important. We can celebrate later or tomorrow night. We can go anywhere you want. Just know I love you.”
Bucky says nothing for a while, his face emotionless as he thinks about what you said.
“I love you, too. Now I want you to get your clothes off and get on the bed.”
You raise your eyebrows at the change in his attitude. What the fuck!
“What?”
“Don’t act as if you don’t want it. You were teasing me all morning. And during the breaks!”
You cannot even deny it because it’s true. Yesterday you were both too tired to even eat when you got home, let alone have sex, and you woke up really horny.
“Don’t you need to get ready?”
He smirks in that way that you hate so much, and you sigh.
“You got one minute, baby.”
You quickly take off your shirt and pants before unclasping the bra and placing it on the nearest bedside table. You let on your panties, eager to see him tear them off as you sit on the edge of the bed.
But he, surprisingly, doesn’t do that after he drops on his knees in front of you and spreading your legs.
You get on your elbows just to watch him. He smiles cheekily, happy with the extra attention you give him, as he hooks his finger around your underwear and moves it to the side, holding it there as he starts to lick your slit.
“Yesss!” You throw your head back, knowing how much you’re going to enjoy this.
He’s a little too slow compared to the usual, but it still feels good, especially when he brings his tongue to your entrance.
You manage to hold back for a while, not letting your hips move until you realize he doesn’t intend to change the pace. With your fingers through his hair and another hand grabbing the sheets, you try to get his tongue inside you faster. But he doesn’t want that either, so you pull his hair a bit harder out of frustration.
“If you want it slow, at least use that tongue on my clit.”
He snorts, amused and does what you told him without protesting. But instead of feeling better because he’s licking your clit, it’s even worse.
You both know that you hate when he’s doing it slowly, so that’s annoying you even more. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose.
You try to tilt your hips more, showing him he needs to hurry up, but he places his right hand on your tummy and pushes your back to the bed again.
“Come on, Bucky! What is this?”
He smiles against your clit and suddenly starts to lick faster. And faster. And faster.
“Yess, yess.”
You pictured him like this before you got together. You imagined countless of scenarios with him eating you out on his desk or on the couch in his office, in the car or in the meeting room. You did that so often it became a habit, but you didn’t expect it to be that good. And he’s somehow getting better every time. Even when he’s torturing you.
When he starts sucking on your clit, though? You feel on fire. You let out the loudest moan before grabbing his hair.
“Yes, sooo c-close. Gimmie a finger, Jamie.” His eyes are on you as you speak. “Please!”
He stops sucking just to breathe on your clit, making you shiver. “Now why would I do that?”
You open your eyes confused.
Does he mean he wants to fuck you?
You’d love that, truth be told, so you push him away a little and get on your ass on the bed. You immediately move your hands down, trying to find his bulge over his pants.
Yeah, you totally missed that.
“I guess foreplay is done. You can fuck me now.”
Bucky laughs. He laughs! Then he brings his hand to cover yours and helps you get a better feel of his cock. Fuck, he’s so hard!
“You want me to put it in you, don’t you?”
“I’m still close.” You whine, surprised by your own body reaction. “Just get inside me, okay?”
“Why would I do that, honey?”
You give him the most confused look ever. “W-what?”
“You’re not gonna come tonight. Or well, until I get back from my meeting. Not on my fingers, not on my mouth, and definitely not on my cock. “
The world is spinning around you. He’s not serious is he.
“Aww, what’s wrong? Who’s the one thinking only about sex now?”
“You’re joking, right?”
He cannot do this. He can’t...
“I should get ready for the meeting.” He tries to get up, but you grab his hand.
“Are you punishing me for doing the right thing for the company?”
He senses you are close to tears so he leans in to kiss your forehead. “No, baby, why would I punish you for that?”
“I don’t know...”
“Maybe this is for thinking our anniversary is not important for me” He cups your face. “But I promise tonight will be great.”
You can’t even say anything, squeezing your legs together, still turned on.
“No touching either. You don’t get to come until I come back, okay?”
You sigh, pouting. “I’ll try, daddy.”
Bucky bites his lip before he kisses you properly. “You won’t try, you will do it for daddy, okay?”
You nod, staring at his chest. “Can I help you clean?”
“As much as I’d love that, if we go in the shower together, I don’t think I’ll leave.”
Damn it... now you have to wait for hours.
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ugh-yoongi · 4 months
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the very last thing i decide | pjm
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(or, the one in which a love exists that's easy and instinctual as much as it is painful and self-destructive.)
✘ PAIRING jimin x f. reader ✘ SUMMARY you learn what it means to love with blood on your hands. ✘ GENRE hitman/assassin au; angst, smut ✘ RATING explicit. minors dni. ✘ WARNINGS they are both hitmen (hitpeople?) so there's all the content that goes along with that: violence, death, mentions of blood (a lot) and weapons, murder, but no explicit gore. everyone is morally grey at best and downright psychotic at worst (especially yoongi). reader gets stabbed. no one knows how to be a functional human being. swearing, smoking, light smut (penetrative & oral sex), miscommunication and unrequited love but not really, i drop a classic tumblr meme in a line of dialogue. ambiguous/hopeful ending!! some of the themes here are kinda heavy and i am not entirely sure how to tag them so if you have any questions pls don’t hesitate to ask! ✘ WORDCOUNT 12k ✘ LISTEN TO manchester orchestra - telepath ✘ THANK YOU i cannot remember everyone i’ve showed this to over the years. @the-boy-meets-evil for looking this over and brainstorming with me today. @hot-soop for always being a help. @effortandmore because you told me an embarrassingly long time ago this was worth finishing. and i’m pretty sure i also sent this to @jihopesjoint at some point too. i did a quick edit of this on my own, but after nearly three years i just wanted it posted and out of my wips so i'm sure i missed things. pls ignore them. ✘ AUTHOR'S NOTE fic drops two days in a row?? who am i?? i started this in may 2021 and it was supposed to be a simple pegging fic. i abandoned it bc i was convinced no one would want to read it. between today and yesterday i have written thousands of words and made it across the finish line. i hope you like it. the violence is a metaphor for love or whatever.
[37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA]
Jimin’s hair had been red the first time he met you.
How fitting, he thinks, considering he’s currently bleeding out on a table.
Well, there’s still a bit of fight left in him. He hasn’t lost consciousness yet, which he assumes is a good sign; he can still hear Hoseok barking out orders quite clearly. The edges of his vision are fuzzy and the pain in his abdomen is sharp and unrelenting, but he still has enough brain power left to wish he’d died instead.
Because you’d saved his life. And now he’s further indebted to you.
(Jimin never leaves a debt unpaid, but he’s not sure how to make even on something like this.)
Jungkook and Taehyung are fetching supplies faster than Hoseok can ask for them. Two pairs of frazzled, spaced-out eyes. Four sets of trembling limbs. Namjoon’s wearing burn marks into the floor, his cuticles bloody and nearly worried to the bone since he can’t keep them out of his mouth.
And then there’s you.
Sitting cross-legged in a chair as you scroll through your phone. Jimin’s blood is still drying on your hands, leaving smears as you drag your thumb back and forth across the screen, and this doesn’t seem to faze you one bit.
Behind you, Yoongi takes a seat at the piano and starts playing Toccata and Fugue in D minor, and Jimin simply cannot die like this. He can’t die on a wooden table in a room with a piano on which Min Yoongi is playing Baroque organ pieces.
“What is this, a fucking funeral?” Hoseok snaps, though there’s a desperation creeping into his tone that Jimin does not like, does not want to hear. “Cut it out, Yoongi.”
Said man staunchly ignores the doctor, transitioning flawlessly into the fugue. Jimin barely hears the tinkle of your laughter but he hears it all the same, and he wants to pretend it doesn’t calm him, bring him back down to earth when he starts drifting too far away. But you do, and it does, and all he can think about is: will you miss him if he dies? Will it take you long to wash his blood from your hands?
Hoseok’s absolutely incensed, pushed to the limits of his stress at the thought of not being able to save Jimin’s life, and Jimin appreciates this, really, but not when Hoseok pushes two gloved fingers deep into the wound in his stomach so hard all he can do is cry. “Yoongi—”
You snort. You don’t even look up from your phone.
Namjoon, for all his leadership and stoicism and poise under pressure, is just as frantic and panicked as the rest. It’s not everyday one of his people is inches from death ten feet away from him. Most people usually die in the shadows. Kim Namjoon has faced down death more times than most, yet watching the life slowly fade from Jimin’s eyes is too much even for him. “Yoongi, please—”
But the fugue keeps going, tempo change after tempo change, the two pillars of this organization spiraling completely by the time the coda starts, unfocused and sweating and praying. To gods they don’t believe in, to hope, to chance—whatever and whoever might be listening. Jimin usually loves hearing Yoongi play. It’s the only thing that humanizes him, and Jimin had spent so many restless nights shoulder to shoulder with him on that exact bench in the blue hours of the early morning, hypnotized by the way the older man’s knobby fingers moved across the keys.
This is it, he thinks.
Jimin’s going to die with Toccata and Fugue in D minor playing in the background.
He’s imagined his death so many times. Stupid not to in this line of work. Violent, quick and painless, in his sleep, drawn out and gory, a message. And in all of those scenarios, it’s either jarringly silent or there’s someone screaming. Usually him, sounding much like he is now, two fingers stuck in his gut. In all of those scenarios, Min Yoongi is never playing Bach as everything fades to black.
You sigh. “Shut the fuck up, Yoongi,” you say, your tone as blasé and inconvenienced as ever.
Shocked at your audacity, one of Yoongi’s fingers slips and hits the wrong key, something dissonant and metallic as it rings out. But the music stops all the same, the silence nearly giving Jimin whiplash. Now he can hear the clinkof Hoseok’s tools, the squelching of his wound, Jungkook’s desperate pleading for him to just be alright, please God, just hang on. He wants the music back. He doesn’t want Jungkook’s crying to be the last thing he hears. Doesn’t want the sound of his own organs imprinted into his memory.
“What’d you say?” Yoongi asks, because no one talks to him that way. They wouldn’t dare. Most people try not to talk to him at all.
But you do.
And, inexplicably, Yoongi listens.
You roll your eyes. “You go deaf in your old age? I said shut the fuck up. Hoseok’s two knuckles deep in Jimin’s fucking stomach and you’re over there having your little Amadeus moment.”
He bristles. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Yoongi repeats, and Jimin can’t see him, but he knows his eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl, fists clenched at his side.
“Oh, princess,” you coo, and Yoongi’s fury is palpable, permeates every inch of this place, overrides all the fear and anguish. “I’m talking to you, baby. I know Jiminie’s busy trying not to die and that’s stressful for all of us, but please do try to keep up.”
Jimin hears the flick of Yoongi’s switchblade. Then he hears him say, “Please let me fucking kill her,” in that lazy Daegu drawl of his, like forming full words are beneath him. Not worth the effort when they’re directed at you.
Still seated, you uncross your legs and, through blurred vision, Jimin watches you grab Yoongi by his belt loops to tug him closer, grab the wrist that holds his knife and press it to your own throat. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Yoongi. Be a good boy and make it hurt.”
Jungkook’s near hysterics at Jimin’s side. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? He’s dying!”
Jimin tries to say I’m not, Kookie, I’m okay but the pressure on his abdomen is too intense. He can barely breathe, and Hoseok’s still digging around, still looking for that stupid fucking bullet, had to do something and do it quick so there’d been very little anesthetic and finesse, and he’s silently screaming for someone to just comfort Jungkook, tell him everything’s going to be okay, but instead—
“Serves him right for being a fucking idiot,” you say, words muffled by the knife still pressed to your throat. “What a painful, permanentlesson in not forgetting your fucking vest.”
“Stop it!” Jungkook sobs, fingers ghosting along Jimin’s matted fringe.
Yoongi’s still scowling. “Just say the word, Joon-ah. I’ll make it quick.”
You actually laugh at that. The kind of full-belly laugh Jimin would kill to be able to produce. “You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
Someone snarls. Probably Yoongi. “You’d look so good gutted on the floor like a fish,” he replies, and if Jimin knows him at all, he knows he’s got that dreamy, faraway look in his eyes. The one he always gets when he’s about to kill—the one that makes him so unhinged and dangerous. “Left there to bleed out and die all alone like the trash you are.”
No one’s survived that look before, but you just grin, as if being on the receiving end of it is nothing more than another simple inconvenience. “Do it, then,” you prompt. “You’re so big and bad, yet here you are, waiting for Namjoon’s permission like some kind of pathetic fucking dog.”
“I’m no one’s dog.”
Your eyes slowly flick over to Namjoon. “No?” you ask, smile widening as Jimin watches you drag your heeled foot up the inside of Yoongi’s calf, his thigh, stiletto coming to rest in the center of his sternum. “That’s a shame, princess. That pretty neck of yours was just made for a collar.”
There’s no doubt in Jimin’s mind now that he actually died back in that penthouse and is now residing in whatever level of hell is watching you give his associate a semi despite him being a millisecond away from murdering you.
Yoongi would do it, too. No hesitation. You’ve been on his shit list for as long as Jimin can remember, and you’ve been daring him to put his money where his mouth is and just kill you already for just as long.
Taehyung groans. “Can you two just fuck already so the rest of us can be spared of this?”
You click your tongue, tone melting like butter. You’re fond of Taehyung, soft on him. “No can do, angel. Yoongi here knows I only have eyes for our Jiminie, and god does that hurt his little feelings.”
Your wicked smile gives away nothing—whether you’re telling a bold truth or just unnecessarily needling Yoongi further—but Jimin’s caught off guard and chokes on your words nonetheless.
Hoseok’s forceps still digging around in his stomach, there’s a quiet hurrah of triumph as he finally locates the bullet. Jimin feels nothing as he retrieves it and plucks it out, a reverberated clank! as he drops it into a kidney dish, your words the anesthetic he’s needed as they play on a loop in his head.
When he finally blacks out, either from the pain or the adrenaline or both, it’s your face that greets him. He never gets the chance to tell you why he forgot his vest.
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[64.1466° N, 21.9426° W | Reykjavík, ICELAND]
Jimin’s hair is blue when it happens the first time.
It’s November. Namjoon has sent the two of you to Reykjavik and it’s dark all the time, the midnight hue of his hair blending into the impenetrable nighttime that surrounds you. Jimin works best like this—out of sight, part of the shadows. He’s light on his feet, lithe in ways no one else is, not even you, and he’s impossible to anticipate under the cover of darkness.
That’s why Jimin always takes care of the appetizers.
It’s your job to clean up the main course.
The two of you are two halves of the same lethal coin, working together flawlessly after years of carefully honed practice. Jimin slams an unsuspecting man’s head into a wall and you’re right behind him to put a bullet in it.
It’s just how it goes.
And he trusts you. He has to, otherwise he would’ve gotten taken out years ago. You’re not always in his line of sight, but he always feels you, senses your movements before you’re even on your feet. The times it’s gone wrong—and it’s gone wrong so many fucking times, despite how cautious and skilled the two of you are—you’re always right there to catch him before he even hits the ground. Just like a ghost, as if your only purpose in life is keeping Jimin safe and alive.
(It isn’t, but it sure feels that way.)
Tonight it’s another hit carried out in an overpriced penthouse overlooking the northern shore. You’re in and out, don’t waste a second more than you need to. Jimin doesn’t spare a glance at the carnage left behind. Nothing he hasn’t seen a hundred times before. All blood bleeds the same, but he still wonders, foolishly, if his looks different to you. If it feels wrong when it stains your hands and seeps into your clothes.
Jimin has never been covered in your blood before, but he likes to think it would.
The two of you don’t speak until you’re in the quiet safety of yet another hotel room, chain lock thrown across the door, deadbolt secured. A small arsenal of weapons is retrieved from ankles and waistbands and cleaned and packed away meticulously. Jimin’s the one who makes the call to Namjoon, tells him in code that the job’s done. You’ve barely broken a sweat, but under the fluorescent light of the bathroom, Jimin can see a small smattering of blood just along your temple when he closes the distance between you.
Someone else’s, of course.
Anyone who made you bleed your own blood wouldn’t be a quick, clean kill. Jimin would make sure of that.
There’s less to be done about the half-inch scar in the hollow of your throat—a pearlescent reminder of the twin scar he has just below his navel; a callback to the day your devilish mouth said the words Jimin can’t stop thinking about.
“No can do, angel. Yoongi here knows I only have eyes for our Jiminie.”
Maybe it’s stupidity. Maybe it’s the feral, years-long build up that’s been simmering between the two of you—low enough to keep warm, contained enough to never evolve into a rapid boil. Maybe Jimin’s just finally desperate enough to go seeking out answers to questions he’s far too scared to put a voice to.
(Really, Jimin knows it’s adrenaline. Nothing more than chemicals. The two of you high on it, heads floating above the clouds. Powerless; or, at the very least, indifferent to stop the very clear path that’s unfolding on the ground below.)
But, god, he needs to know.
Needs answers.
Needs to know if there’s even a chance you feel it, too: the magnetic ebb and flow the two of you have been dancing around for years. If you see how fondly he looks at you. If you have any idea how easy it is for him to get lost in you. If you know he’d let someone put a bullet between his eyes before he placed his life in the hands of anyone else.
Jimin knows he loves you. He’s known it for a long time, just like he knows all those other things that are second nature to him. Loving you is easy and instinctual as much as it is painful and self-destructive.
At least that’s what he’d thought. Until your devilish mouth said those devilish words and sent him into a tailspin he’s yet to recover from.
You have to feel it. God, can’t you? The way the air crackles between you. The way his skin ignites with a simple look from you. The trembling of his fingers at his sides, desperate to just reach out and touch you—fingers that have been bathed in blood, that have taken life. Fingers that now just want to graze softly across your cheekbones, catch on your bottom lip. Fingers that want to hand you the world on a silver platter. Jimin would do anything for you, give you whatever you wanted. You wouldn’t even have to ask.
Can’t you feel that?
He needs to know.
Jimin is composed, elegant. He kills with grace and still maintains as much of his softness as he can. Isn’t ruled by emotion the way Yoongi and Jungkook are. But now, as he teeters on the edge of the unknown, all he wants to do is jump. Wants to buck all his training, all his resolve and forethought, and jump.
“Did you mean it?” he asks, voice thick. Fingers curl into the expensive silk of his shirt just so they have something to do—something to keep them from reaching out and touching you. “Back in Seoul.”
You’re the smartest person Jimin knows. When you ask, “Did I mean what, Chim?” he knows you’re fucking with him. Dragging this out. You know exactly what he’s asking and he knows you’ll never give anything away so easily.
“What you said to Taehyung,” he answers.
You tsk, eyebrows raising in intrigue. As much as Jimin trusts you, as well as you know him, know all those dirty, dirty secrets he’d never tell anyone else, he’s never been so bold with you. “That those long fingers of his would look good wrapped around my throat? Yeah, I meant that.”
Jimin’s jaw clenches at your taunt. “Don’t play games with me.”
A smirk graces your lips. “Trust me, sweetheart,” you say, voice sickly-sweet as the affection starts popping at the last seams holding him together, “if I wanted to play with you, there’s nothing you could do to stop it.”
With Jimin pressed into the wall behind you, you turn to meet his eye in the mirror. Another smile, teeth bared as you run your tongue across your lips, and this one is his undoing. Makes his cock twitch in his dress pants. Makes him bold. “Do you want to, then?” He takes a step forward—close enough to smell the gunpowder stuck to your clothes, your hair. Close enough for the sulfur and metal to sting his nostrils each time he breathes you in. “Do you want to play with me?”
You love Jimin. Maybe it’s a trauma bond or the implicit, unwavering trust the two of you have in one another, but you know you love him limitlessly. But you also know you can’t love him the way he loves you, the way he deserves to be loved by someone, which is why your mask slips as you say, “I can’t give you what you want, Jimin.”
You try to make him understand that. Really, you do—because Jimin is the smartest person you know, and you know he’s thought about every possible consequence down to the most minute detail and has decided this is worth it anyway. You want to believe in something the way Jimin believes in you, even though he’s wrong. You want something worth throwing all of this away for.
Maybe it’s Jimin, maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just been so fucking long since someone has looked at you with any gentleness in their eyes at all that when Jimin meets your gaze and says, “I don’t want anything more than you’re willing to give,” you take his hand and jump, too.
And there’s nothing gentle about the first time.
It’s all raw, urgent need, Jimin trying desperately to convince himself it’s more than it is while you convince yourself it’s less.
It’s the two of you finally giving up and giving in, letting yourselves be pulled taut by that invisible string tying you together.
It’s Jimin’s sharp intake of breath when you fully step out of your clothes, the sight rendering him immobile. Whatever plans he’d had before seeing the curves of your body, all the scars from years of working by his side, the mottled yellow-greens and purples from the bruises lining your skin—he has no plans now. Can barely think. Wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from you with a gun to his head.
It’s the final bricks of the wall he’d built around himself—around his heart, around all those words and feelings he’d never put a voice to—crumbling into ash at his feet. Now he knows he can’t go back. Can’t return to a reality where this isn’t his truth. Where there’s no you and him, him and you. Where it’s just a physical exchange, a give-and-take, tit for tat.
And god, he knows he shouldn’t think like this; knows he’s keeping the truth buried somewhere deep behind lock and key.
…But now that he knows how it feels to move inside you, what else is he supposed to do?
You’re everywhere. Clenched around him. Your taste on his tongue. The feel of you on the pads of his fingers. The smell of you making a mockery of all logical thought. No—no, he can’t do a goddamn thing to stop the avalanche now it’s started.
“Fuck,” he whines, fingers digging into your hips. The soft skin he finds purchase in such a contrast from your hardened exterior, but Jimin knows. He knows you, knows the person behind the mask, sees straight through you each time it slips.
What stared back at him had always been just out of reach.
Taunting him.
Screaming come and get me, come make me yours, come and fucking take what you want.
Until now.
Now it’s tangible. Now it’s breathy, fractured moans that echo off tile walls. Now it’s the sound of his name thatleaves your lips like a prayer. Now it’s the sheen of sweat that covers both of you. Now it’s nails scraping down his back, tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.
(And Jimin won’t tell you this, but those red welts are proof that this is real, this happened, and later on when he’s alone, when his mind is working overtime, he’ll look at them and he’ll smile. Because they’re real. Because this happened.)
Now, it’s the way blue becomes his favorite color. Because he can see his reflection in the mirror as he unravels and comes to his own demise as he spills inside of you; can see the fluorescent lights reflecting off the hue of his hair.
Jimin’s hair is blue when he realizes he’s in love with you.
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[34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA]
Jimin is blond when Namjoon sends you to South America.
The details had been scarce: a diplomatic advisor with a rap sheet of human rights violations that have been continuously swept under the rug and his equally-corrupt lawyer. A candid photograph paperclipped to another manila folder, Namjoon a fan of all those old cliches. Likes being a little cheeky that way when he can get away with it, because god knows he can’t get away with much, doesn’t have much of a sense of humor.
It’s a simple job. You and Jimin will have it dealt with in a matter of hours. Less if you’re lucky and the universe is agreeable. But the humidity sticks to your skin, has sweat seeping into your clothes and rolling down your temples, and if there’s one thing you can’t stand it’s the heat. Makes it hard to think. And Namjoon—Namjoon, who makes sure all of his agents want for nothing—is a cheap bastard. Rarely approves nice lodging, says it’s too risky despite your arguments to the contrary, that people don’t care what you do when you have money, so you’re stuck in some shithole motel room with an aircon unit that keeps blowing out stale, warm air.
And maybe you shouldn’t, maybe you should be more cognizant of Jimin and all his feelings, but it’s fucking hot, so you peel your shirt over your head and undo the button of your pants. Sit on the edge of the bed and try to think about anything other than the temperature, how it’s starting to prick uncomfortably at your skin.
Jimin clears his throat, keeps his eyes glued to the disgusting carpet. “Got a text from Seokjin-ssi,” he says, words strained. “Looks like they’ll be solo jobs.”
You groan. Leave it to Seokjin to change the plan at the last minute. “Tell Kim Seokjin he’s a useless piece of shit.”
“Done. Anything else?”
“Tell Kim Namjoon if he ever sends us to South America in the summer again I’ll kill him myself.”
Jimin has a laugh like an anodyne. A laugh that takes all those broken, bleeding parts of you and soothes over them like a balm. “Seokjin-ssi says he’s not passing along that particular message.”
“Tell him he’s a bitch, then.”
“He’ll kill me if I say that.”
“He hasn’t done field work in years and he’s probably too vitamin D deficient to leave the basement. He couldn’t even kill a fucking rat.”
There’s another laugh. More forced, less tinkling. You recognize it right away, the sound of anxiety. Solo jobs aren’t common for the two of you. For Yoongi and Taehyung, sure, but not you and Jimin. You’re a team for a reason, and though you’re more than capable of getting this done and out of the way, it doesn’t feel right. Settles in your gut like something rotten, knowing you’ll be without Jimin.
And you know he’s thinking it, too. How he turns the burner over and over in his hands, as if there’s some combination of words he can send back to Seoul to get Seokjin and Namjoon to reconsider. Plans don’t change often; not like this, anyway. These have been declared solos for a reason, and that’s a thought you can’t linger on too long.
“Are they leaving it up to us?” Jimin nods, still not meeting your eye. “Do you have a preference?”
He shrugs, tossing the phone on the small table in the corner. Nothing else to be done. “Not really. What do you think?”
“Nah, don’t care, either. Just toss me one.”
Santiago Aguirre… 47 years old… Resides in a high-rise luxury apartment in Retiro…
Your eyes skim the file, study the black and white photograph of the lawyer. Read over the list of all his high-profile, degenerate clients and all their high-profile crimes. You read about the previous attempts on his life, the seemingly never-ending list of people who want him dead. Your eyes go back to his photograph, frowning at the smug look on his face. What stares back at you is a man who thinks he’s invincible, who thinks a penthouse apartment on the top floor and a security team in the lobby means he’s impervious to harm. A man who has made money off people just like him: dirty, corrupt, hands stained red.
“Okay?” Jimin asks, looking up from his own file.
He’s so striking. So safe. And you know what he’s done, giving you the hit he thinks is easier, willing to risk himself on a solo mission to ensure you make it out. There’s no guarantees in this line of work, in life in general, but Jimin’s brand of selfless love is certainly one.
So you just nod, knowing someone slimy like this can quickly go sideways, and decide you can do the same.
“I’m gonna get ready,” you say. “The plan is the same as all the other solo jobs. Get in, get it done, get out as quickly as possible. Lay low. Don’t come straight back here.”
Jimin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Anything else?”
You exhale. Try to quiet the nerves roiling in your stomach. Barely resist the urge to press a lingering kiss to Jimin’s forehead before you swallow hard and say, “Yeah. Stay alive.”
It comes out more like a plea.
You’re good at your job.
Rarely feel much guilt over it, either, which—well, you’re not sure what that means. That something is permanently broken in your psyche, probably. Being able to take life so easily and without remorse. It’s not natural.
Kim Namjoon is a man who plays God, is the one who decides who gets to live and who has to die. His word is the only law you adhere to. And that’s… that’s something. Makes it less burdensome, takes some weight off, because Kim Namjoon wouldn’t accept a morally-ambiguous job. He wouldn’t ask you to put your life on the line for some petty bullshit.
This is how you’ve lived for the last four years. Four years of blindly following Namjoon’s word, of being a good little soldier and doing whatever is asked of you. Four years of being responsible for not only your own life, but Jimin’s as well, just as he is for yours. Four years that have served you well, all things considered.
Until now.
Something about this job hits you hard. Doesn’t settle quite as quickly as the ones that have come before. For the first time, you’d looked down at the lifeless body at your feet and couldn’t stop the trembling, could barely quell the nausea. Thought what the fuck am I doing, what kind of life is this for the first time. Thought back to that day four years ago when Kim Namjoon saved your life and offered you a job and wondered, for the first time, what would’ve happened if you’d said no.
Now, as you suck on a cigarette, legs dangling off the roof of a building looking not far from collapse, a new thought:
Would Namjoon let you go if you asked?
He’s taken care of you. For four years you’ve wanted for nothing. Have socked away more money than you’ll ever be able to spend, even if you live to a thousand. You could go anywhere, become anyone, and no one would suspect a thing. There’d just be you and a million lifetimes’ worth of transgressions, alone under the weight of all that burden; alone, except for all the ghosts that come to greet you every time you close your eyes.
Doesn’t matter. Namjoon might be willing to let you go, give you the chance to salvage something from this life in the name of normalcy, but Yoongi would gladly put a bullet in your head before he let you disappear with all his secrets.
Doesn’t matter.
You stub out the cigarette and put the butt in your pocket. Make your way down to the street. Stay under the shadows—just visible enough to redirect any suspicion shot your way. You pretend to take a call, flawless Argentinian Spanish falling from your lips as you tell the imaginary person on the other end all about your fucked up day at work. How your manager never gets off your ass, doesn’t trust you, thinks you’re too fucking stupid to run a simple executable.
No one spares you a second glance.
Not here, on this nondescript street in a nondescript Argentinian neighborhood, and not when you stumble into the tiny lobby of your shithole motel. The poor kid behind the desk doesn’t even glance up, just mutters a good evening, miss under his breath that you return in a voice far too high-pitched to be your own.
Better to be seen and be unremarkable than draw attention to yourself trying to stay invisible, you figure.
The cameras in the stairwell are broken so you take the steps two at a time. Pull the room key from its place inside your boot, happy to no longer have it digging into your skin. Pause just long enough to make sure you don’t hear anything on the other side of the door before you’re unlocking it with your free hand wrapped around the trigger of your gun.
It’s empty.
Of course it is.
Jimin stashed the burner in a place no one but you would think to look. You text one simple word to Seokjin—Hey!—and you get two in return: Who’s this?
You know who it is, you fucking dickhead.
It takes a few seconds, but the reply is a simple—
Sorry.
Then you toss aside the phone and float in the darkness of the room. There’s nothing to do but wait, because you don’t dare to do anything alone. There’s sweat and blood and fuck knows what else stuck to your skin, your hair, but you can’t risk taking a shower. Can’t risk the water dampening your senses. Can’t risk being cornered in a moldy bathroom, only one way out. Can’t risk doing anything alone. Can’t take a fucking shower.
It’s this thought, more than anything else, that has your body flushing with rage.
What kind of life is this?
Namjoon had never mentioned repaying your debt. He’d never insinuated you owed him anything at all for saving your life, but you know something like that never comes for free. Namjoon doesn’t do anything just because. Has no goodness in his heart to do anything in the name of it. Watching Jimin nearly die in front of him had been the exception to his usual nature; a rare slip-up by an otherwise detached, uncaring man.
Still, whatever you owe him has surely been repaid by now. Tenfold, if the bloodstains along your collar are anything to go by.
It’s time for Namjoon to let you go.
Something is wrong.
Two hours have ticked by and there’s no word from Jimin. No word from Namjoon or Seokjin, either, which is the only reason you’re still in this nauseating motel room and not out on the streets searching for him. Solo jobs don’t go like this. The two of you are always in and out, tragically efficient. Back to where you started and then back on a plane, nothing left behind except a singular bullet hole and another fragmented piece of your conscience.
You’ve had a lot of jobs go wrong, but never two hours.
You’re about three minutes from coming out of your skin. Sick to your stomach with worry, anxiety weighing you down like an anchor. You wouldn’t be able to go out searching for Jimin like this even if you could, and there’s no point in dwelling on that, examining it further. All you can do is wait.
It’s another hour before you hear the click of the lock. You’re nearly on your knees in relief, but you stay rooted to the flimsy mattress. Try not to think about how you’ll have to sleep on it, even though you’ll be up half the night with residual worry. All those lingering ghosts.
Jimin doesn’t say anything, so neither do you.
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[55.6761° N, 12.5683° E | Copenhagen, DENMARK]
Jimin’s hair is orange when you go to Copenhagen.
Not for a job, just to breathe. You wanted to see the city at Christmastime; Jimin’s never been.
You crack a joke. Point out buildings of similar color, have him stand in front of one as you take a picture. Everyone smiles when they pass the two of you on the street, Jimin’s eyes fond even though he rolls them as you pose him how you want. Still stands against an apricot-colored wall and flashes a smile and a peace sign, cheeks pink from the cold. Does a good job of pretending the two of you aren’t here just for fun, that this is something more.
It’s not.
The two of you fucked in a hotel room in Reykjavik and haven’t spoken a word of it since.
You nearly lost your mind over him in Buenos Aires and haven’t spoken a word of that, either.
Instead, his hand finds yours as the two of you walk around Tivoli Gardens. You marvel at the lights and Jimin marvels at you. You share mulled wine and spiced doughnuts. Jimin tries to drag you on the swings but you plant your feet and refuse, laughing through your refusals. As dangerous as your lives are, motion sickness might be the most. He gets his revenge and poses you in front of a giant nutcracker, then again in front of one of the endless Christmas trees.
Jimin pays for the two of you to decorate honey cakes. You’re surrounded by families with shrieking children and palpable adoration, and it’s all you can do not to wonder if anyone you’ve taken out had ever had something like this. Something that makes your soul warm; something that still lingers in your bones years later.
The two of you take a selfie when it starts to snow. It stings when you have no one to send it to, so it just lives in your phone. Maybe it’s enough.
On another day, Jimin holds your hand through Torvehallerne. This time you marvel at him while he marvels at all the food, eyes wide each time he turns to ask if he should buy something. You always say yes and he always shares, and it’s all you can do not to think about why you don’t have to budget yourselves. Why you’re able to walk through the market and buy whatever you want; how you could buy every item for sale and it wouldn’t make a dent.
(You pick up small trinkets for Taehyung and Jungkook. Not because you want to, but because it feels nicer than remembering that you have no one to buy gifts for. Not really. Not anymore.)
Jimin wants to ice skate, so you do. He holds your hand then, too. More out of necessity than anything else, and he has none of his usual grace. Someone hands you a free cup of hot chocolate, just because. Jimin pouts and then it’s his hot chocolate. It’s all you can do not to kiss away the whipped cream on the corner of his mouth.
Back in your lavish hotel, after countless days have blurred together and Jimin’s fresh from a shower, skin flushed, you finally ask yourself if it’s worth putting up such a fight. If it’s really all that bad to care for Jimin and be cared for in return. If it’s all that bad to be someone else, just for a little while: someone with a normal life who makes a normal living and has a normal capability to love. Someone who isn’t damaged beyond repair.
That will never be you. Not fully, and certainly not in this lifetime, but maybe it could be, a little.
“Jimin,” you say, because you need to try. Jimin loves you in ways you’ll never understand, and you want to be better for him. “We should talk.”
Your voice is small and hesitant, and Jimin hates it. Sees trouble where there’s only vulnerability, so he misreads. Shakes his head. Takes a risk and stands between your legs at the edge of the bed—yours, because there’s two—as he tilts your head back, thumbs pressing into the contours of your cheeks. The scar still sits in the hollow of your throat, and that version of you feels so far away. That life feels so far away.
There’s no violence here. There’s no blood, no fugues. There’s just you and Jimin, whose voice is small like yours when he shakes his head and says, “You should kiss me instead.”
The second time is nothing like the first.
Jimin moves delicately. Feels like silk lace, tastes like spun sugar. Moves both his mouth and his body fluidly, no hesitation, yet he still takes his time. Still pauses to look at you with endless devotion; with awed reverence. Makes a map of your body and marks all his favorite places with his lips.
“Tell me what you want,” he says. Speaks the words against the skin just beneath your ear. “Anything. I’ll give you whatever you want, just have to ask.”
What you want isn’t tangible, isn’t possible, so you stay quiet. Thread your fingers through Jimin’s hair, gasp when he mouths along the column of your throat. Jimin reserves all his softness for you. Bathes you in it. Would kill anyone to keep it that way.
So you say, “Want your mouth,” and let slip a quiet moan when he gives you what you’ve asked for. When he situates himself between your thighs and sucks and licks until you’re writhing, making a mess, grasping fruitlessly at the sheets, his hair, his shoulders, only calming when his hands find yours and your fingers interlock.
Jimin mouths at you until you’re trembling. Until you’re needy and desperate, hips moving on their own, fucking yourself against his face. Until nothing exists except the heat in your belly, the stars behind your eyelids, the heady, fucked-out sound of Jimin’s voice as he talks you through it, murmurs praise against your cunt.
Jimin mouths at you until you forget.
This isn’t your life. This is not something you can have.
But, in the grand scheme of things, what does it matter? You’ve made peace with death, and there’s only one of two ways it’s going to come for you in the end: by Namjoon’s hand or someone else’s. So what does it matter?
This time, Jimin fucks you slow. Kisses you with your taste still in his mouth. Thumbs over a hardened nipple just to see what earns him a reaction, and what you truly want is more time—something else that’s impossible.
Jimin’s hair is orange when you think you might be in love with him.
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[ 48.8566° N, 2.3522° E | Paris, FRANCE ]
Jimin’s hair is pink when—
“Sit,” he says, gesturing to the toilet.
Soaks a washcloth in warm water. Wrings it out. Stands in front of you, and there’s water dripping onto the floor and Jimin doesn’t care, doesn’t seem to see anything in this moment except for you, your hands covered in someone else’s blood, and he reaches out, gently grabs your wrist. Palm up. Someone else’s blood. Everything smells like copper and iron. Looks too surreal beneath the fluorescent lights of this hotel bathroom for your mind to make sense of it.
There is care in the way Jimin cleans your hands. There is tenderness in the way he both refuses to see what you really are and the way he’s the only one to ever see you so entirely, when you look down at the blood he’s washing away and all you can see is stigmata. When all you see is sin.
“I know you don’t love me,” he says, and there is a conviction in his words that stuns you into silence. “Not the way I love you, anyway.”
That tenderness is still there as he says this. As he presses the wet fabric into the meat of your palm, wipes the stains away, and the warmth is as calming as it is undeserved. It feels like something forbidden. It feels like salvation and condemnation all at once, like whatever sick depravity permeates you is contagious, will take over Jimin, too, just from touching you.
Jimin is close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to see the violence that he exists in alongside you: the rips in his clothes, the scars that decorate his skin. Close enough to know he smells sickly-sweet, just like death. Your hand shakes as it reaches for him and never follows through. Doesn’t want to contaminate him.
“I do,” you finally say. Whatever is in your voice is not conviction. “I can’t.” You suck in a breath, try to steady your breathing. This is where it all comes crashing down, you think, because in all the years you’ve done Namjoon’s bidding, you’ve never cried. You can take life so freely and without thought, but you cannot love Jimin. “Someone like me isn’t capable of it.”
Jimin pauses, the washcloth stuck in the space between your ring and middle fingers. “And who is someone like you?”
Water is still dripping to the floor. Serosanguineous: blood tainting something untouched. Not something one thing or another but both, watery-pink. Looks like Jimin’s hair. “I’ve killed a lot of people,” you answer. “More than I can count. More than I can name. More than the ones that come to haunt me at night.” Your free hand moves to your chest, covers your heart. “There’s nothing here, Jimin. I’m not sure there ever was.”
The washcloth drops to the floor, and all that blood belonging to a man whose name you never bothered to learn before you put a bullet between his eyes finds a new place to rest. “I think,” he begins, clasping your unclean hand in his own, voice dropping to a whisper, “you forget, sometimes.” You gasp as he places your palm to his cheek, drags it across his face, smears a stranger’s blood across his skin. “That we’re the same.”
Jimin is always overwhelming, but the love he has for you is even more so. It consumes you entirely, embeds itself beneath your skin, makes a home, would tear you apart, body and soul, to return to him.
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[ 47.4979° N, 19.0402° E | Budapest, HUNGARY ]
Jimin’s hair is lavender when it all goes to shit.
“You’re being followed.”
Seokjin’s voice is garbled through the earpiece, tinny and metallic, and you roll your eyes. Some things don’t need to be said, because you’ve known someone was following you for the last three blocks. Average height, black peacoat, close-cropped haircut. Not the kind of person that’d stand out here, and that’s exactly why you’d sent Jimin in the other direction.
“No shit,” you respond in Hungarian, because you already know the man following you doesn’t speak or understand it. “Give me somewhere to go.”
It takes Seokjin a few moments to run the translation. “There’s a side street up on your right,” he answers. “It’s tight, but there’s an alleyway at the end. You can buy some time if you’re quick.”
“Where’s Jimin?”
You pass a vendor selling lángos and duck into the street behind the stall. Just as Seokjin had said, there’s a small alleyway up on the left, and your footfall is near-silent as you break into a sprint to reach it. “Safe,” is all Seokjin says.
You take a second to steady your breathing, knowing you’re good on time—the man following you was close enough to know where you’d turned, but, if you’re lucky, not much after that. That plays on a loop: if you’re lucky, if you’re lucky, if you’re lucky. What is luck, what does it look like, in a life left entirely to chance? In a life with no guarantees?
You tuck yourself away, focus on Seokjin’s metallic breaths. Think about his basement in Seoul, why he’s in it. Ask, “What happened in Addis Ababa?” because it feels important to know.
There’s not much you know about Seokjin’s life. Whatever happened in Ethiopia had been before your time, reduced to hushed whispers and gossip fodder after your arrival. No one spoke of it, Seokjin especially, but every now and then something would slip in the same way weeds grow in sidewalk cracks.
A job gone wrong. A bombing at the consulate with Seokjin inside.
His reply is simple, words spoken carefully: “I loved someone once, too.”
He can’t see it, but you nod nonetheless; an answer that doesn’t require a response, because you know. It’s enough to fill in the rest. What Seokjin’s trauma looks like. Why he doesn’t do field work anymore. Why he prefers the solitude of the basement, rarely a sound beyond the electric thrum of the server racks.
Who had gone in to retrieve him, and why Yoongi has the scar over his eye.
“You loved someone,” you conclude, “and he would’ve been willing to die for you.”
“Yes,” Seokjin says, and it’s like the word’s been punched out of him. Sounds like something repressed, something left to rot in the darkest corner of the world.
Love, to Seokjin, looks and sounds the same as death.
“I think most people spend their entire lives searching for a love like that,” he continues, and if you could see him you think he might look dazed, off-kilter. You think he might be an avatar. Seokjin is prying his ribcage apart, unwrapping the barbed wire from his heart, saying I once was in love and this is all I know of it. “But, to me, in this life, it’s a prison. Once someone is willing to die for you, how do you keep them alive? How do you—I kissed that skin. I worshiped it. I pressed my lips to it with whatever softness was left in me. How do you look at that same skin and know you’re the reason it’s mangled?” He exhales, all tremor. “You can’t. You can’t.”
You know this all too well. You know what it feels like to look at Jimin and know, intrinsically and subconsciously, that you wouldn’t even hesitate. You’d take and give life to keep him alive and safe. You know that when you exit this world at someone else’s hand his face is the last thing you want to see.
You know it’s a liability.
You know it’s a target painted on your back. Between your eyes.
You know there’s nothing left to say, that this particular conversation has run its course. The two of you sit in an amicable silence, and you hope Seokjin can hear the life that surrounds you, however mundane. Hope he can hear the lángos vendor trying to hawk his goods; hope he can hear a city 8,000 kilometers away; hope he can hear these regular, everyday people going about their lives and remember there’s hope beyond his four walls.
I think you’d like it here, you think, but you don’t dare to say it aloud.
Time passes in a meaningless blur. Could be minutes, could be hours. No one’s come to kill you, so you reckon you’ve long since been in the clear. And maybe it speaks to Seokjin’s idea that love is a prison, because you know something’s happened to Jimin long before Seokjin speaks it into existence.
You’re up and out of the alleyway before you’re told to move. Have no idea where you’re going, but you’re racing through the streets of Budapest with a panic you haven’t ever felt in your life. Feels like quicksand; feels like molasses; feels like you have to wade through all the blood you’ve spilled, now congealed, to get to him.
“Where am I going?” you demand. Your lungs are on fire. In the split-second of silence it becomes a desperate scream. “Seokjin, tell me where the fuck I’m going!”
“The—fuck, the wa-warehouse up on your right.” You can’t think about why he’s crying. “I don’t—I don’t know wha-what’s there, you need to be careful. Please, you have to—”
Twenty seconds and you’ll be there, you’ll be with Jimin, you just need to keep running. You need to keep your head on straight. Remember your training. Remember you’ve built a life in a viper pit.
A man in a uniform is unloading a shipment around the back of the building. Faces away from you, bent at the waist. Takes very little effort to smash his head into the stone exterior and knock him unconscious, pocket his badge. You can’t get stupid now. Tell Seokjin to make sure all the cameras are cut, ask what floor when you shut yourself inside the freight elevator, unwilling to take the stairs and run into anyone who might be waiting. All the way to the top, he says, so all the way to the top you go.
Over the course of your life, you’ve made peace with death. Have stared it in the eye more times than you can count. Have dealt it out, evaded it, shook its hand.
You are wholly unprepared for the sight that greets you.
Red. Everything is red—the walls, the floor, what used to be a beautiful parquet pattern in the wood. In the center of the room: two bodies, maybe three. Not much that’d be able to identify them beyond a pile of teeth, no saying whose is whose. Slaughterhouse scraps.
And this is not—Jimin doesn’t work this way. Isn’t his MO. Jimin’s kills are elegant and neat, topped with a bow. What you see before you is ultraviolence. It is unhinged, it is fury, it is a complete loss of control. It’s what love looks like to Jimin, because he sits at the very edge of a rotted chair, legs crossed. Face streaked with blood, clothes covered in it.
“Jimin,” you say, because what else is there?
He tilts his head to the side, smirks a little, looks at you beneath his lashes. Eyes that used to find you across a room and calm you. Eyes that have locked onto you in the throes of pleasure. Eyes you’ve seen yourself reflected in, bathed in love and adoration.
Eyes that now contain nothing.
“Jimin, what the fuck happened?”
He removes his gloves with his teeth and doesn’t flinch away from the taste of iron. “They said they hurt you,” he states simply, “so I did what needed to be done.”
“What—” Nausea claws at your throat; for the first time, it’s all too much. This isn’t Jimin. This isn’t your Jimin, who smiled as you posed him against apricot walls in Copenhagen, who took a bullet to the stomach to protect you and never, ever told you. This is not the Jimin who wasted the last of his goodwill on loving you. “What did you do?” you whisper.
He rises to full height and it makes you flinch. You are scared of Jimin for the first time in your life: scared of who he is in this moment, what he’s capable of. And he sees it, lets that brand of anguish overtake him. Reaches for you before he decides against it and lets his hand drop to his side. Says, “I would never hurt you,” as if the words could brand themselves into your skin so you’d never forget.
“No, you’d just—” You squeeze your eyes shut. Don’t think about how one of the men nearly embedded into the floor was the one trailing you earlier.
Instead, you think about Seokjin: Once someone is willing to die for you, how do you keep them alive? You think about: How do you look at that same skin and know you’re the reason it’s mangled? You think about: In this life, it’s a prison.
You drop to your knees. Let the blood seep through your clothes and into your skin, undeserving of shying away from it.
Namjoon should’ve let you go.
You think about the men in front of you. Who they were, who they loved. The grief all of this is going to leave behind, and it becomes impossible to breathe. You grasp at your throat, think about all the times you’ve been strangled and who’d been there to cut the rope. There is no limit to Jimin’s devotion, and you understand now, how it drove Yoongi to madness. How he loved someone so much he would’ve retrieved their corpse from a building and how that same person can no longer bear to look at the damage they’d caused.
“This isn’t love, Jimin,” you choke out.
He stands in front of you. Stigmata. You’re worshiping at the altar of some kind of devil. At least his hands are clean when he places his fingers beneath your chin, forces you to look up at him. “What is it, then?”
“Destruction.”
A quiet huff of cruel laughter. “See, this is the difference between me and you, darling.” He takes back his hand, runs it through his blood-streaked hair, and your chin sags to your chest without his support. “Because I already knew that. Because I have destroyed myself every single day loving you.” He squats down, eye-level, and he says, “I need you to listen to me when I say this, sweetheart: you do not love me the way I love you, because I would do worse. When it comes to you, there is nothing on this earth I would not destroy to keep you safe.”
He clears his throat. Collects whatever’s in his mouth and spits onto one of the bodies. “If this is enough to have you tucking your fucking tail between your legs, then go, because this doesn’t even scratch the fucking surface.”
You can’t bring yourself to say anything, and sometimes that says it all.
Jimin presses a kiss to the top of your head. Makes a call. Cleaners will be here soon, he says, better get going.
You watch him go.
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[ 37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA ]
Jimin’s hair is black when Namjoon calls the meeting.
He takes the seat across from Namjoon’s desk because they don’t meet like this often. Assignments are usually manila folders slipped under doors, hushed whispers in hallways confirmed with a nod or a text on a burner phone. Assignments are not last-minute assemblies in conference rooms and offices.
But the way Namjoon is looking at him, with his clenched jaw and a gaze that’s meant to look barbed to anyone who doesn’t actually know him—Jimin doesn’t need to ask what this is about.
Had he bothered to look, he would’ve known by the way you stood in the far corner of the room, face obscured by the mid-afternoon shadows. Yoongi’s close to you, for some reason: dressed head to toe in black, perched on a lateral file cabinet, using a metal corner to sharpen his switchblade. Just like a harbinger of death. Some sort of fucked up omen, a warning that’s come too late.
Didn’t I tell you this would end badly, he hears Yoongi taunt in his head. This is what happens when you lay with trash.
Easy for Yoongi to say when he doesn’t know what it means to be cared for by you. Doesn’t know how it feels to give in to the freefall and plummet at your feet, stripped back and laid bare. Doesn’t know how it feels to kiss secrets into your skin like constellations, to map his tongue along every unspoken confession.
Easy for Yoongi to say, because he doesn’t have to survive the aftermath. Doesn’t have to feel the heartbreak, the agony of having you and watching as you slip through his fingers. Yoongi doesn’t have to struggle just to breathe, doesn’t have to endure the nights staring at the ceiling, watching as the daylight creeps into the corners of his vision. Doesn’t have to watch you looking so unaffected.
“Jimin.” Namjoon’s tone is flat, needlelike.
Behind him, Yoongi chuckles lowly. “What?” Jimin asks, his gaze trained on the painting behind Namjoon’s head. Looks like one he’d seen in Berlin, the time the two of you had gone just because and spent an afternoon ducking in and out of museums to escape the rain.
When he closes his eyes, he still sees the raindrops stuck to your eyelashes. The beads of water rolling off the sleeves of your leather jacket. How blinding your smile had been. The laughter in your voice as you ordered beer after beer after beer for the two of you in flawless Berlinisch. A brief, fleeting glimpse at normalcy. At the kind of life the two of you could have if you were just… different. Lived different lives. Were different people.
“You’ve gotten sloppy.”
Namjoon’s words are a cold bucket of water. Snap him back to reality, yank him back to the present where he’s forced to leave those river-lined streets behind. You’re silent and Yoongi’s still snorting laughter. “Okay,” is all Jimin can bring himself to say.
Jin had gotten sloppy once, too, and Namjoon stuck him down in the basement to work logistics. Might not be so bad, Jimin reckons. He’d be away from you, spared of this fucking misery. “So you know that’s unacceptable.”
Jimin just shrugs, resigned to his fate, whatever it may be. “I’m reassigning the both of you,” Namjoon continues. “You’ll both have new partners for your next assignments, since you clearly can no longer be trusted together.”
“Who?” Jimin manages to choke out.
Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly having expected an argument. “You’re being sent to Shanghai with Jungkook. You,” he says, turning his attention to you, “are going to Moscow with Taehyung.”
She’s fond of Taehyung, Jimin wants to say. But you’d been fond of him too, once upon a time, and that’d only ended in heartbreak, so who fucking cares.
They’re cruel, the tricks Jimin’s mind plays on him. How he convinces himself you look pained. How his fingers wring together at the thought of entrusting his life in the hands of someone else, someone new. At your life being just as at stake; at Taehyung being tasked with keeping you alive. Would you die for him, too, the way you’d always told Jimin you would for him? Would Taehyung take a bullet to the stomach to keep you safe the way Jimin had?
Even more cruel is the way you scoff, pushing yourself off of the wall as you fold your arms across your chest and say, “That’s bullshit, Kim Namjoon.”
No one talks to Namjoon that way except you.
Yoongi’s knife stops twirling. Just like a bird sensing a storm, senses on high-alert as he flicks his gaze over to you. “I’m sorry?” Namjoon says. “What part of Jimin losing his mind and nearly outing all of us seems like bullshit to you?”
“Hm, let me think,” you retort, a manicured finger tapping against the hollow of your cheek. “The part where you’re reassigning me for someone else’s mistake?”
Which part was the mistake? Jimin wants to ask. Needs to know how much you regret. Was sleeping with you the mistake? Falling in love with you? Getting too caught up in all these daydreams and letting reality get away from him?
“This organization is more important than Park Jimin getting his goddamn dick wet,” Namjoon snaps. “Keeping all of you safe—keeping you alive—is more—”
You scoff. Take an entire container of gasoline and pour it right on top of Namjoon’s flammable ire. “Then perhaps you’d be so kind as to explain to me why Min fucking Yoongi can fuck damn near everyone in this establishment, yet I have to sit here and listen to your goddamn mouth—”
Jimin doesn’t think Yoongi even knows his arm is moving.
There’d just been the trading of barbed words. His own name being spoken into the ether. Yoongi’s arm moving away from his body, switchblade clasped tightly between his fingers as he plunges it into your flesh.
Jimin watches it puncture your arm in slow motion. Feels the bile in his throat, the heat in his belly. Looks first at Namjoon whose jaw has gone slack, skin pale, as he stammers over words that won’t come. Then he looks at Yoongi—expects to find shock or guilt but finds only a muted disinterest and flared nostrils.
Finally, he looks at you. Watches the white cotton sleeve of your shirt slowly turn red and sticky-wet. Watches as your lips move around syllables and vowels and consonants Jimin can’t decipher.
“—fucking piece of shit, this is my favorite shirt! I’ll never get all this goddamn blood out of it—”
Jimin thinks he hears Yoongi say you deserve it. But Jimin isn’t really thinking much as he clambers out of his chair and moves in Yoongi’s direction. Doesn’t think at all as he lets instinct take over, lets adrenaline steer him headfirst into yet another bad idea.
He’s always known there’d come a day he’d be face-to-face with the sight of your blood. Had always known it’d come from someone else’s hand. Had always promised himself that hurting you would be the last thing anyone ever did.
Jimin has his fingers wrapped around Yoongi’s throat and he finally understands it—the joy Yoongi finds in taking life.
“What’s the matter, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi taunts. Jimin tightens his grip. Suddenly hates that fucking scar across Yoongi’s eye. “You’re never on clean-up duty. Always make your girlfriend do the dirty work. Finally grew some fucking balls, huh?”
“Fuck you,” Jimin says stupidly. Can’t think of anything more to say. Not that he needs to. Wrapping your hands around someone’s throat sends enough of a message, he thinks.
Namjoon’s still tongue-tied as you yank Yoongi’s blade from your arm, immediately pressing your other hand over the wound to stem the bleeding. The sight of your blood is making Jimin dizzy; the smell of the iron hanging in the air. All he wants to do is choke the life out of the man in front of him, but more than that, he just wants to hold your hand. Wants to comfort you, even though he knows you don’t need it. Not from him, not from anyone, but he still wants to. Wants to press his lips to the sweat at your brow.
And Yoongi can see it, too, because he starts laughing. It’s an odd, fractured noise. Jimin isn’t sure if he’s ever heard him laugh before, decides he also hates the way it sounds. Feels all wrong watching it leave his crooked smirk. Makes Jimin’s stomach plummet to the ground.
“Oh, you’re fucked, aren’t you?” Yoongi teases around Jimin’s slackened grip. “You weren’t just fucking her, you’re in love with her.”
Weird how Jimin is the one with his hands around someone’s neck and feels like he’s the one suffocating.
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[ 31.2304° N, 121.4737° E | Shanghai, CHINA ]
Jimin watches the life drain from an innocent woman’s face and feels nothing.
Jimin watches Jungkook cut a man down and feels even less.
When it’s over, he cleans up wordlessly and doesn’t eat for three days.
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[ 37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA ]
Jimin’s hair has faded to brown by the time he returns from Shanghai.
The more complicated job had gone to you and Taehyung. Jimin had tried not to take it personally. The Russian hits are always unnecessarily violent and Jungkook still isn’t fully trained. There’s still a phantom pain in Jimin’s stomach that warns him of the consequences of taking on more than he can chew. So, sure, Shanghai had gone fine, but his mind had been nearly 7,000 kilometers away the entire time.
Good thing he’d returned to Seoul unscathed, too, because he’s sure Namjoon would’ve eliminated him without a moment’s hesitation if he’d fucked up again.
But Shanghai had only served to prove the leader right. Jimin can’t work with you anymore. Can’t focus, can’t stomach the violence, can’t keep his goddamn head on straight.
He sighs as he glances at Jungkook to his right. Jimin had watched him murder two men in cold blood not even thirty-six hours ago and now he’s doe-eyed and sucking down his third banana milk of the morning. It really makes his head spin, being paired with this grown-up infant of a man now instead of you, but for all of Jungkook’s apparent shortcomings, he’d kept Jimin alive. He isn’t dead.
And then you walk in with Taehyung and he wishes he was.
Because you’re laughing and Taehyung’s got his arm slung around your shoulder and you look happy. It’s the kind of happiness that should be contagious, bloom warmth in his chest, but it doesn’t. It just takes the last frayed strand of hope he has and sets flame to it.
You don’t look like you miss Jimin at all. Don’t look like you’ve lost sleep or skipped meals.
“Didn’t take you long, did it?” Jimin says, because he’s wounded and lashing out. Not because he means it.
You must know he doesn’t, too, because you don’t react. “Watch your mouth, Park Jimin,” Taehyung warns, because he doesn’t know, and this only sets Jimin off more. You don’t need defending. Or had you, and Jimin had simply thought it wasn’t his place to provide it? That you wouldn’t want it?
“Or what, Kim Taehyung?”
Taehyung is cherubic. It’s part of his charm, one of many reasons why he’s so effective. If you’re looking to die, you look for the guy who looks like Yoongi, not the one who smiles wide and warm like Taehyung. So when he sets his jaw and pokes his tongue into his cheek and says, “Or I’ll cut your fucking head off, you stupid fuck,” your attention is finally piqued.
“I’m so sick of this,” Jungkook wails, banana milk tossed carelessly in the trash. “All of you need to get your fucking shit together!”
Taehyung rolls his eyes at the same time you pretend to inspect your nails. “Is that why you’re so temperamental, Chim?” Taehyung prods, looking every bit the pretentious, murderous angel he is. “Because you got sent to China on a babysitting mission while the grownups did real work?”
“Fuck you,” Jungkook snaps, rising to full height. “I’m not a fucking child.”
“Oh? Could’ve fooled me.” Taehyung’s words are razor-sharp and smell like kerosene. “Tell me, then: were you on babysitting duty? Had to look after our precious little Jiminie while he nursed his broken heart?”
You sigh, full of faux-exasperation, and place a gentle hand on Taehyung’s forearm. Dig your nails in just enough to be a warning, and if Jimin hadn’t been looking he’d miss it: the way Taehyung deflates instantly, anger dissipating like smoke, back in control. Just because you’d touched him. Just because you were there. Jimin knows that touch, how it feels to be under your control, and it makes his chest ache. Makes everything feel like it’s sitting wrong in his stomach, and he’s either going to be sick all over Namjoon’s overpriced fucking rug or wrap his hands around Taehyung’s throat the way he’d done to Yoongi.
He’s out of his goddamned mind; he feels untethered. Helpless. Like it was always going to end like this, and maybe Jimin knew that and had just ignored it. Maybe now he’s paying the price—maybe he’s finally found something he can’t afford.
Jungkook’s still going off, nasty gaze set on Taehyung because he’s the only one playing along. They’re exchanging words Jimin can’t make heads nor tails of. Words he doesn’t care about. Words that ring empty and hollow because they sound nothing like the way you say his name. Shapeless, unlike the way your lips move around those syllables.
“Jimin,” you say, the sound finally registering and bringing him back down to earth. All he can do is stare. “Can we talk?” Taehyung and Jungkook are still trading barbs.
Wonders how he got here. Looks around the room and wonders if each and every one of them is destined for this same fate, this madness. Wants to tell you why he forgot his vest, why he was three hours late in Argentina. Wants to grovel and beg and leave this place and never look back.
More than anything, he wants to know what it feels like to actually be human.
So he shakes his head. Tries not to be haunted by the way your face falls at the rejection.
There is a scar on his abdomen and a scar on your arm that both tell the same story. There is a man in the basement who is in love with a man above ground and is too weighed down by guilt to do anything about it. There is a man here who plays god, has soldiers to do his bidding, and there is very little here that Jimin has only for himself.
The two of you will have that conversation, but he needs to be human, first.
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[ 34.6901° N, 135.1956° E | Kobe, JAPAN ]
This is a waste of your fucking time.
Whatever Namjoon had thought would be here doesn’t seem to exist. Yoongi can barely tolerate you on a good day, threatens to stick a dagger in your neck at least twice an hour, but the more time the two of you waste chasing ghosts, the closer he comes to unraveling entirely.
“Stop fucking staring at me,” he snaps, blowing the smoke of his cigarette right in your face.
You tut. “But you’re so beautiful, Yoongi, I just can’t help it.”
He digs his switchblade from his boot. Makes a show of flipping it open. “I can cut your fuckin’ eyes out of your skull,” he intones. “Maybe that’ll help.”
In your ear, Jimin’s laughter rings like crystal.
Ricochets off of all the corners of Seokjin’s basement, makes the echo sound warped through the earpiece. “Please tell Yoongi-ssi to keep an eye on the man with the shaved head. In front of him, roughly sixty degrees to his right.”
You relay the message. Watch as Yoongi transforms—sharpened gaze, rigid posture, disappears into the shadows. More apex predator than man. “And me?” you ask.
“Backup,” comes Seokjin’s voice. “We haven’t found your mark yet.”
You hum. Pick up the cigarette Yoongi left behind and stick it between your lips. Smoke it nearly to the filter. “You got it, boss,” you tease, just because it flusters him.
“I’m—that’s not—knock it off.”
Exhale. Stub out the cigarette. Butt in your pocket. “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Jimin says, and his voice is soft, sounds like spun sugar. “Stay alive, all right?”
Jimin’s hair isn’t dyed at all.
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if you've read this far: thank you so, so much! i am more appreciative than i can put into words. this is very different from what i typically write, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.
i would love to hear your thoughts if you have any. <3
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queenshelby · 27 days
Text
AMERICAN GIRL (PART TWO)
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader
Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo, slow-burn
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The following morning, when you woke up, it felt like a dream, hazy and blurred around the edges. But as the memories of the past few days came rushing back, accompanied by the now familiar feeling of unease, you remembered it was no dream.
You were living a new life now and  you were determined to make the best of it. It could be exciting, even thrilling.
The next few days passed by without any major incident, although the tension in the air was palpable especially since you and Emma never really left the house. These were Grace's orders and within the confinement of this mansion, you tried to find solace in the quiet moments: the few minutes you stole for yourself in the library, that early morning walk in the garden, without Grace's or anyone else's presence. 
It helped you maintain your calm, just as it did in prison, but there was no denying that this house carried a certain unease everywhere you went, instilled in its foundations and passed on from person to person, until it had become an unspoken presence.
Tommy had been away for most days, busying himself with work and illegal dealings while Grace either stayed at home or indulged in some shopping trips to either Birmingham or London. 
Over the days that had passed, when Tommy was around, mostly in the evenings or the early mornings, you heard him arguing with Grace. They argued a lot and you wondered why he was still with her after all those years.
You have heard some gossip from the maids in the house, the ones that were nosy and talking a lot, about how Grace had betrayed Tommy and, yet, he had fallen for her charm and her wit. She was his first true love after France and you wondered whether, perhaps, he held on to that or whether this had become strictly business now that Grace had connections to both, the US and Ireland. 
One of the arguments in particular surrounded the fact that you and Emma were here, which was something that made you uneasy.
You overheard them talking about you and Emma in Tommy's office late one night, and you couldn't help  but listen in - not because you wanted to snoop, but because their hushed conversation piqued your curiosity.
"I don't fucking understand, Grace. Why would you bring them here?"  Tommy's voice was low and controlled, but there was no mistaking the frustration in his tone.
"They're my stepdaughters, Thomas. It's not as if I had a choice in the matter. The Americans made a demand and I adhered, for your sake and for the sake of your business interests with them," Grace replied, her voice equally measured.
"For my sake, eh?" Tommy 's voice was dripping with sarcasm now, his eyebrows furrowing together as he leaned forward against the desk. "You adhered for my sake? I'm not so fucking sure, Grace. But then again, I am never so fucking sure with you," he spat and Grace let out a derisive snort.
"Alright, Thomas. I brought them here because I felt guilty for what happened. Emma was abused by another family member, which is why Y/N interfered. None of this would have happened if I had been a better person," Grace lied, feigning   innocence which is when you clenched your fists, but held your tongue, knowing that getting involved in their argument would do nothing but add fuel to the fire.
Tommy's gaze was fixed on Grace, his expression unreadable. "And you felt so guilty that you put them in the staffing quarters, Grace? Why is that?" he said, his tone ominous. "I suppose your guilt has limits, eh? Because clearly, you do not want to spend time with either of them and, yet, they are here, in my fucking house,"  Tommy's voice was low and dangerous, his eyes never leaving Grace's face.
Grace pursed her lips, her eyes flashing angrily. "You know as well as I do, Thomas, that having them in our living quarters complicates things. They will be a distraction and-"
"You are afraid of Y/N, aren't you?" Tommy interrupted her , his voice laced with amusement that sent a chill down her spine.
"Alright Tommy, perhaps I am afraid of her," Grace then admitted , her words barely escaping her lips, catching even herself by surprise.
She recovered quickly, continuing, "But with the connection they have to the American family, our business interests could be compromised. Surely you understand the implications-"
Tommy held up a hand, silencing Grace midsentence. "I understand the implications too well, Grace. But now I want to know why you are afraid of a 19-year-old woman ." Tommy's blue eyes bore into Grace's, his voice steady and unwavering. He had always been intuitive and perceptive and it was no different this time.
Grace took a deep breath, silently cursing herself for revealing her fear. "I am afraid of her because her father killed himself after the things I did to him. I cheated him for years and he never forgave me for that," Grace murmured, her voice barely audible. "I broke his heart in every imaginable way and he, in turn, destroyed himself because of me."
Thomas regarded Grace for a moment, absorbing what she just revealed to him. "And I am the man you cheated on him with?" he ought to confirm , the seriousness of his tone causing Grace's heart to quicken.
"Yes, Thomas." Her voice was a mere whisper, but she could sense his focus intensifying, the air in the room growing thicker by the second. 
"Fucking Hell Grace," Thomas muttered slowly, dragging a hand through his jet-black hair. "So, you thought it would be good idea to bring them into the man's house who you know they would likely blame for their father's death? Are you fucking serious?"  Thomas' voice was laced with a mixture of confusion and anger. "You really thought bringing them here would be a good idea? Bringing them to the place where they could see you with the man you had an affair with, the man who you had betrayed their father’s trust with?" Thomas' words came out in a harsh whisper as he shook his head in disappointment.
Grace swallowed hard, her throat suddenly feeling dry as she tried her best to justify her actions.
"Y/N killed a man, with a single gunshot to the head, and you bring her to my house, eh?" he then asked, raising an eyebrow at Grace and causing her to flinch at the harshness of his words.
Grace averted her gaze, carefully selecting her next words. "I brought them to the safest place I knew, and I secured two more years of trade with New York," she reasoned, though her words held more desperation than conviction.
Tommy took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as he tried to swallow his anger which is when you swallowed your pride and tore yourself away from the door, your bare feet silently padding the length of the hallway as you made your way back to your guest room. There was no use in listening to their quarrel anymore; the truth was out of the bag now, and it hung between them like a noose, waiting for an opportunity to tighten around their throats.
But as much as you tried to focus on the silence of the mansion, the words you had just heard continued to play at the forefront of your mind, an inescapable echo that threatened to consume you entirely. 
You knew who Tommy was and it served Grace right to be afraid of you , because you would never forgive her for the things she had done to your father. Not entirely. And yet, despite that knowledge, you also couldn't help but feel some small fragment of gratitude for the roof over your head and food on your table.
You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and opening the windows to let in a cool breeze. The sound of trees rustling in the wind and the distant chatter of birds momentarily soothed your racing thoughts and, when you looked out of the window, you noticed Tommy retreating from the house , his shoulders tense and his gait heavy with what appeared to be an inner turmoil.
A ripple of guilt washed over you, knowing you may have contributed to his stress, and yet, you couldn't shake the sense of betrayal that lingered following what you had heard in the hallway.
Instinctively, you slipped on a silk robe, its emerald green color mirroring the depths of your eyes, as you left your room to join him outside. The mansion was quiet except for the distant echo of your footsteps as you traversed the corridor.
Tommy was out on the patio when you found him and his gaze was fixed on the darkness of the woods nearby.
A glass of whiskey dangled loosely from his hand, the amber liquid sloshing gently with each movement. You could see his jaw clenched tightly, and the rigid line of his shoulders told you this was uncomfortable somehow. 
As you approached, Tommy glanced up and offered you a small, weary smile. 
"Can't sleep?" he asked, the huskiness in his voice betraying his own restless night.
You shook your head slightly, shuddering against the cool spring breeze that drifted across the open patio. "I must admit, the house is somewhat... unsettling at night."
Tommy's eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment, as though weighing his words. "I imagine it would be," he conceded as you tentatively reached for the whiskey glass in his hand.
Tommy didn't hesitate to release it to you, his fingers brushing against yours with an unexpected warmth, sending a jolt through your body once again.
The whiskey burned pleasantly as you swallowed it down, letting the warmth spread through your chest and help to calm your racing thoughts. "I guess it's just going to take some time getting used to," you replied with a soft smile as you handed the glass back to him.
Tommy looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, his gaze unwavering, and you could feel yourself sinking into the depth of those blue eyes.
"I suppose it will," he finally responded, his voice barely above a whisper.
For a fleeting moment, silence hung in the air between you, pregnant with an expectation that neither of you dared to acknowledge. He took another sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours as the silence continued to stretched on, forming a strange intimacy that you had not anticipated. It was almost as if only the two of you existed in that moment, and everything else faded away into oblivion.
Despite the tension, Tommy felt the need to fill the void that had settled between you.
"I suppose we all have our ghosts to face in this house," he finally admitted, a whimsical smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You followed his gaze as it travelled towards the dense trees standing tall in the distance. The darkness seemed inviting, and the quiet seemed soothing, contrasting sharply with the unrest that churned within the walls of the mansion.
"My father once told me that we all have our stories to tell and so do the houses we live in. If these walls could talk, what do you suppose they would have to say?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words floating effortlessly into the cool night air.
A faint smile graced your lips as a myriad of memories from your childhood invaded your thoughts.
"They would tell many tales indeed," Tommy agreed, swirling the contents of his glass before taking another sip of the fiery amber liquid. "This house belonged to a respectable man once, but he was also a lonely man, with no one to inherit his fortune," he began, casting a brief look over his shoulder to where the mansion stood, towering behind you both like an impenetrable fortress. "He took in strays, gave them a roof over their head and food on their table - but he never took in a woman whom he loved," Tommy told you and you watched him as he recalled the story, transported to another time and another place by the weight of his words. "I suppose love is a myth after all. There is desire and lust, sure, but love? I don't think it exists," Tommy said as if he was talking to himself, his gaze lost in the fire that flickered dangerously low in the outdoor hearth. "So if you ask me, this house once belonged to a smart man," he finished off as the night had grown colder around you, and the flickering light danced across your skin, casting shadows along your collarbones and the delicate slope of your shoulders.
"Maybe you are right. Maybe it doesn't exist and yet I wonder what kind of tales this man would tell if he were to speak now? He may have found love with someone who never reciprocated it. It's possible" you murmured thoughtfully, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill ran down your spine.
The air seemed to grow heavy in the wake of your words, and neither of you dared to speak for a few moments. An invisible thread stretched between you, a curious connection that seemed to defy all reason, but you couldn't ignore the way it made your heart race.
Thomas' gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat longer than was necessary before breaking eye contact and taking another sip of whiskey.
"Perhaps," he eventually said candidly as the air grew colder around you when a sudden breeze picked up, rustling the leaves and sending a shiver down your spine.  "But love requires vulnerability and trust and a man who can afford a house like this, is neither vulnerable nor trusting," Thomas went on to explain, his words heavy with a hidden melancholy that made your heart clench. For the first time since you met him, you could sense a profound pain lingering underneath his usual charismatic and confident façade.
"Is this why you do not love Grace? Because you don't trust her?"  you asked, your voice gentle and curious. The words hung in the air for a moment, a question that seemed to hover between the two of you, as though waiting for the perfect moment to be answered.
Thomas' gaze shifted towards the glass in his hand before flicking back up to meet yours. "Love is a concept I struggle to understand, and it's not something I openly welcome in my life, whether trust someone or not," he told you, avoiding answering your question before observing the way you shivered from the cold.  "Come," he said, standing straight with his drink in hand and moving back towards the mansion. "Let's get you inside. You don't want to catch a cold now, do you?"
You followed him to the French doors, as you entered the grand mansion, taking one last glance at the patio with its dying fire. The stillness of the evening only heightened your senses and left you feeling strangely aware of his presence beside you.
Something about being near him stirred unspeakable emotions inside of you, feelings you couldn't justify nor understand. The strange allure of his tortured soul called out to a deep, primal part of you, begging to be explored. But you knew better than to indulge in such reckless desires.
"Tommy?" you asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between you as you walked towards the grand staircase which you knew was where you were going to part ways. "Do you think I could work for one of your businesses, just to make some money for a tutor, for my sister? She is still young and needs to be schooled," you  asked, the words slipping from your lips before you could think them through.
Tommy paused, his gaze locked with yours as a battle of emotions seemed to wage behind the depths of his eyes. 
"I will arrange a tutor for her tomorrow. There is no need for you to work simply so that your sister can be educated,"  Tommy replied sharply, breaking eye contact first as he continued to climb the grand staircase.
You lingered in the dimly lit foyer, your gaze following the broad line of his shoulders as he made his way up the stairs. There was a subtle firmness in his tone that you couldn't quite place - but it was strangely arousing all the same.
"Thank you, Tommy. I truly appreciate it," you said softly, maintaining your composure even as your thoughts tumbled recklessly. "But I would still like to work, please. It is very boring here," you pressed on, hoping to persuade him. "I could help in one of your pubs, or -"
Tommy stopped mid-step and turned to look down at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "We will find you something more suitable than bar work, eh? The pubs in Birmingham are not like the establishments that you are used to from New York," Tommy said with a hint of reproach in his voice. 
You watched this play of emotions across his face, your thoughts momentarily thrown off kilter by the sight of his dimpled smile. That alone sparked an inexplicable warmth deep within your chest, a feeling that you quickly fought to suppress. You had no business feeling such joy in the presence of Thomas Shelby.
You knew that. You understood that. But you couldn't help yourself around him. There was an inexplicable pull, an attraction that went beyond his devilishly handsome features or his powerful presence. You found yourself entranced by his pain, his tortured spirit that was slowly unraveling before your very eyes. It was as if he wore a veil and every time he spoke, a piece of it would fade away, revealing a snapshot of his true self.
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stinkyme · 10 months
Text
Hello! This is something I had in mind heavily discussed with my sweet Q(utie) (@iovetecchou ) and this is an alteration of one fluff request I had, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)
CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader (no pronouns used), needy!Tecchou, semi-public sex (inside of the tent), a biiiiiit of dry humping, cliche plot, established relationship, vaginal penetration, ass grabbing (lovingly :3), fucking sideways (?), Tecchou placing his hand on the reader's mouth, a little bit of biting, more loving and romantic sex, creampie, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)
I apologize for any mistakes in advance!
Needy much? || Tecchou Suehiro x Reader
It was a very cold night when you had a mission. Hunting Dogs knew no pain or limitations when it comes to serving justice. So now, you had to camp in a forest with Tecchou, Jouno and Tachihara. You made a deal to use two tents - one for Jouno and Tachihara, second one for Tecchou and you. This was fine by all of you and soon enough you set up your tents and all went to sleep after chatting near the fire for a while. Tecchou and you had separate sleeping bags, hoping that they may help more with the cold.
But the night's awfully freezing breeze was making it harder for you to fall asleep. You were tossing and turning, then tried to get into the fetus position to provide more comfort and warmth for yourself. It was futile. You could feel cold sneaking inside of your bones, your body uncontrollably shaking. You tried to take a deep breath to free your muscles from tension, but that just made it worse. Tecchou was aware of this, hearing the material of your sleeping bag continuously rustling and moving.
"You can sleep here with me." he whispers, trying not to startle you.
"No, no, it's fine." you reply through shaky teeth, taking another deep breath to try and somehow receive any warmth.
"Don't be stubborn. Just come here. Or should I come there?" he replies in a casual, almost monotone tone as he nods to himself quickly, getting out of his sleeping bag. 
"No, it's fine. Really." you somehow choke out words, still trembling. He doesn't say anything, just takes his sweater off and opens up the zipper of your sleeping bag. You barely turn your head to take a look, widening your eyes at the sight in front of you.
"Are you insane? You will freeze to death like that." you say in a sharp tone, a wave of warmth spreading inside your body as you get slightly irritated.
"Not exactly. Skin to skin contact is the best if you want to get warm. So..take your clothes off." he says so casually that it's almost nerve wrenching. He is almost always so calm that sometimes you wonder if it is a huge prank of his.
"You are insane." you say as you turn around, stubborn to prove him wrong.
"And you are freezing, so do as you are told. Or do you wish for me to freeze to death?" his voice was calm and monotone. You could feel your eye twitch and you quickly got up, taking off your sweater. You were looking at him for a good moment as you threw your top aside.
"Happy now?" you ask him in an annoyed tone and he nods.
"Pants too." he says as he gets up, quickly takes his pants off and slowly adjusts himself in the sleeping bag.
"Fine. At least you annoying me made me forget about how cold I am. I will give you that." you say, still a bit shaky as you take your pants off and position yourself in a sleeping bag. You turn your back to Tecchou, his torso immediately warming them up.
"Happy to help." he replies in a soft tone as he puts his arm over your waist and brings you even closer to him. You sigh out, finally getting warmer and warmer. Tecchou kisses your shoulder gently before he nuzzles his face into your back. He gently puts pressure with his fingertips on your tummy as he starts placing kisses down your back, as far as he can reach in such a tight space. You sigh out again, this time from pleasure and relaxation that his warm lips were providing. Tecchou slowly moves back up, pulling you in closer to him and pressing your body into his. You close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth that was finally settling in your body. Shortly after, you can feel Tecchou barely moving his hips, softly rolling them in and out. You could feel a slight bulge that was forming inside his pants as his cock got harder. You smile to yourself as he moves his hand down your waist using his fingertips, softly grasping your hip and squeezing it as he starts moving his hips slightly faster.
"Needy much?" you whisper following with a silent laugh as he kisses one of your shoulder blades. He kisses the other one, then places a kiss in the middle of them before answering.
"Mhm. Maybe just a bit." he replies softly, using his elbow as leverage to get himself up and look at you. He continues tracing his fingertips up and down your hip and waistline, slowly making a half turn to trace over your back and up to your shoulder. You could feel his bulge growing and pressing into your ass as you turned around to look at him. Tecchou's gaze was low and lickerish, he had a certain seriousness to him, unlike his usual, more calm and disinterested looking self. He kept moving his hips, still rubbing his hard cock into you as he kept watching you as if asking for permission.
"What if Jouno hears?" you whisper out, feeling your cunt tensing and relaxing. The idea of getting possibly caught and heard shouldn't be as exciting as it is right now, but hell. He looked way too lovely right now to be denied. And you felt the desire way too much to deny yourself as well.
"Then we just have to be extremely quiet. Can you do that?" he whispers, leaning closer to you as he gently bites your earlobe and slides the tip of his tongue over it. You feel a slight noise getting caught inside of your throat before nodding. You knew it was futile, Jouno would hear regardless, but you were not thinking with your brain currently, so it didn't really matter.
"Good." he whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending slight shivers down your body as he slides his hand down, slowly and delicately pulling your panties as you lift your hips to help him. He slid them down to your knees and started slowly caressing your thigh, absolutely mesmerized with you. He was never much of a talker, but his touches and the way he was looking at you were telling enough. 
He then moves his hand up, softly squeezing your ass as he lets almost inaudible sigh out. Moving his hand slightly further, he lets his fingertips touch the area of your inner lips just to see how wet you are. You tremble as he barely touches you, his fingertips feeling like delicate, soft feathers on your needy cunt. He puts his forehead on the side of your head, positioning his head in such a way that his lips are close to your ear and once he feels the amount of precum that was leaking, you could sense a shaky breath coming out of his lips. He moves his hand away, slowly pulling his own boxers down and pumps his cocl few times before he lines it up with your entrance. You feel him rubbing his tip on your inner lips and you let a soft breath out, trying not to make any sound. He uses his index and middle finger alongside his thumb to spread your precum over his cock before he puts his tip back at your entrance.
He moves the forearm of his arm that he was using as leverage to put under your head. Pulling his head away from you, he adjusts his hips so he gets more space and better angle before he starts slowly sliding his cock between your folds. You close your eyes tightly, trying to focus on not making any sudden or loud sounds as you feel him spreading your cunt more as he goes deeper. You can't see, but Tecchou's lips are apart, his gaze burning into your skin as he focuses as well, trying not to make any sounds. As he slides half of his cock inside, you can feel a mellow whimper escape your throat, making you quickly close your mouth as he finally slides full length inside of you.
You can feel his body already trembling as he starts thrusting, very slow and very precisely, moving his hand on your hip for more support. You turn your head around to finally look at him, there's an evident concentration in his face and you could tell how much he was holding back. Slightly arching your back, you provide a better angle for both of you as he slightly speeds up his movement, now perfectly reaching and stimulating your g-spot. You can feel yourself getting already worked up as you keep looking at him. Not only was he providing you wonderful sensations, but looking at his broad shoulders and muscular chest made a knot of warmth inside of your cunt.
He looks at you for a moment as he keeps thrusting and leans in as much as possible, letting you meet him half-way as he places a soft kiss on your lips. You look at him with a half-lidded gaze as he starts moving a bit faster, pressuring your g-spot in much shorter and more intense intervals. Your lips part as you feel yourself trying to choke in a moan and he places his lips on top of yours, muffling out any sounds. Tecchou's tongue finds yours quickly, the tip of it gently sliding over yours. Your kiss grows more passionate and lustful as his hand squeezes your hip more before sliding down and slightly lifting your ass cheek just to spread your cunt more for him. As he thrusts next time, you can feel him much more inside of you, the pressure on your sensitive spot getting even more stimulating and pleasurable, making you let out a louder whimper inside his mouth. He pulls away from the kiss quickly, slightly gasping in as the pleasure gets more intense for him as well.
"Sorry." you whisper out quickly, your eyes closing on their own as you just wish to enjoy the moment. Tecchou shakes his head, reassuring you like that as he is afraid that if he speaks, he will make a noise. He was squeezing your ass cheek a little, his fingernails digging into your skin as the pleasure was slowly getting overbearing. He speeds up his movement, keeping up his tenderness, but thrusting in you in quicker intervals. You could feel your g-spot burning in the best way possible as the tip of his cock kept stimulating it. Your cunt was leaking more precum making Tecchou throw his head back a bit as the way his eyebrows knitted upwards revealed how sensitive he currently was.
You somehow lean into his chest, slightly tilting your head backwards and placing a soft kiss on one of his pecs. Your breath was shaky, you could feel the pressure of you holding back your moans and whimpers in your throat and eyes that were slightly tearing up. Tecchou started moving even faster making you gasp in as a louder moan mixes in making you cover your mouth. He lets out a dim, almost inaudible whimper as his grip on your ass softens. He moves his hand up, his fingertips tracing over your waistline before he places his hand around your jaw, keeping it in place. You turn your head around, looking away from him as he softens his grip on your jaw, sliding his hand upwards and placing it over your mouth. He slows down his movement, thrusting more slowly and messy now as a soft moan escapes his lips once he feels your pussy clenching around him from the lack of intensity. 
"Fuck." he whispers under his breath as his fingertips press into your cheek. You let out a dissatisfied sound that was muffled by his hand. He moves his hand away from your mouth, sliding it down your body, finally reaching the back of your thigh. He sneaks his fingers between your legs, lifting the leg that was on top of the other as he starts thrusting faster now, his tip relentlessly kissing your sweet spot. 
You lick two of your fingers, placing them on your clit afterwards. You start drawing small circles on it as Tecchou still holds your thigh for support, his thrusts are steady and medium paced. You let out a very soft moan, almost inaudible, but still quickly close your mouth, choking the sounds inside your throat. Tecchou's cock kept stimulating your g-spot alongside perfect pressure and pace of your fingers, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. You could feel your cunt clenching and pulsating making Tecchou's cock throb and twitch as you were leaking more precum with each thrust and circle on your clit.
You turn your head a little bit, taking a quick look at Tecchou who was slightly biting into his bottom lip, trying his best to stay silent, barely breathing. He picks up faster movement, squeezing your thigh as he was getting overwhelmed with sensations of your pussy. He was relentlessly pressing your g-spot regardless of his thrusts being softish and you picked up the pace of your fingers, matching his. You could feel a tingling and warm sensation slowly building up inside of you as your orgasm was approaching. Tecchou keeps up his movement, his cock throbbing more as your cunt keeps leaking, closer to his own orgasm. He leans in closer to you, placing his lips right above your shoulder blade and gives a quick kitten lick to that spot before biting into it. You let out a choked whimper as you keep circling on your clit, closer and closer to orgasm.
"Fuck, I think Jouno heard that." you whisper out, slightly breathless as Tecchou's cock keeps stimulating your sensitive spot.
"Who cares?" he whispers into the bitten skin before biting into the skin between your neck and shoulder, as gently as possible. You let out another soft whimper as you can feel his cock even more inside of you now as your cunt keeps clenching each time he hits your g-spot. You keep moving your fingers on your clit as Tecchou's fingers on your thigh keep giving light squeezes. Your body starts feeling warmer and warmer as you get slightly lightheaded, both of you keep up your pace as you arch your back just a little bit, to get that last bit of intensity on your g-spot.
You can feel your eyes watering as the tip of Tecchou's cock pressures your g-spot perfectly and deeper than before and as he keeps thrusting into you and your fingers perfectly satisfy all sensitive spots of your clit. Your body starts shaking and you almost subconsciously keep your breath in as your orgasm finally bursts inside of you. You keep your mouth open, but almost nothing comes out besides a very small whimper. Tecchou bites more harshly into the same spot of your skin as your hips quiver and twitch from your orgasm.
His cock begins throbbing and softening inside of your messy cunt as he lets out whimpers that were muffled by your skin. You can feel his quick, warm breath on it as your orgasm slowly starts melting away - his is approaching. Tecchou's pace gets messy as he squeezes your thigh, his fingers locking in place as he finally reaches his own orgasm; a whip of cum filling you up. You get tingles as a few drops of cum slide between your thighs and Tecchou pulls out and makes more mess out of your pretty cunt, breathing heavily. 
You don't dare to move just yet as you keep looking at him. He is slowly calming down as he comes closer to you and places a soft kiss on your nose.
"You are so lovely." he praises under his breath, placing another kiss on your cheek this time.
"And so amazing." he places a kiss on your other cheek.
"And so-"
"I will stop you right there." you cut him off with a whisper.
"I need something to...clean up." you look down and he seems to be dumb-founded. He looks down and widens his eyes for a second before turning around and looking for anything that could help and clean you up.
After a while he found some cloth to clean the mess he made and the two of you started cuddling as soon as he finished cleaning you.
"Feeling warmer now?" he was teasing which was both - usual and unusual for him.
"Mhm." you reply with a soft sound before moving more into his chest, enjoying his soft skin.
"Much warmer." you whisper out sleepily as he trails his fingertips over your cheek and places a lazy kiss on the top of your head.
"Are you sure…? Maybe we need to do it once more just to make sure." he has a little smile as he says this, making you roll your eyes at him.
"Just go to sleep already. I love you." you say in a soft tone and place a kiss in the middle of his chest as his smile gets bigger.
"I love you too." he replies and the two of you slowly drift off to sleep, feeling safe and warm.
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lupinmoonlight · 1 year
Text
Submission Part 3: Obedience
Masterlist AO3 Submission Part 1 Submission Part 2: Establishing Rules
Summary - Your fantasies to be dominated finally become true. Professor Lupin leaves a mark of ownership on your skin and tests your willingness to submit to him. You also lose your BJ v-card on your knees in his quarters. (4,062 words)
Warnings - smut, teacher/student relationship, heavy D/s undertones, professor/sir kink, rules, mention of pushing limits, mention of safeword, self-degradation, LOTS of "good girl" and "Yes, Sir", oral sex (reader giving), swallowing, mentions of bruises, spanking, being tied up, very light innocence kink if you squint, marking, my grammar.
Notes - This is not proof-read. Almost just pure smut. I had a lot of fun writing this one. This is also my longest piece. Still not sure where I am going with this, I just want it to be kinky. I know how out of character this is for Lupin, but I still try to keep some of his traits in this.
You were staring at your reflection in the mirror, meticulously pulling your hair into a neat bun like he had instructed. Every strand felt significant, every lock a piece of the puzzle you were stepping into or rather, diving into. The collar of your uniform felt tighter than usual, your exposed neck, just for him, sending a chill down your spine. This was real. And there was no going back.
You attended your morning classes in a daze, barely aware of your surroundings, the voices of your professors sounding distant and muffled. You tired to focus, but your mind was elsewhere, the memory of you standing between his legs as he gave you commands taking up all the space in your head.
When it was finally time for your DADA class, your heart pounded in your chest. You suddenly regretted having all those fantasies and acting on them. You were dumb. A dumb, horny teenager desperate to be dominated by her professor. Desperate to give in, to submit, to be used. You took your usual seat, consciously trying to keep your breathing steady. You were filled with a weird mix of nervousness and excitement as Professor Lupin entered the classroom, his gaze momentarily meeting yours before he began the lesson.
As the class progressed, you noticed his gaze lingering on you more often than usual. Every time he looked at you, his eyes would drop to your neck, observing the exposed skin there. The heat that spread through your body was both exhilarating and terrifying, like you were going to combust, leaving you feeling breathless and flustered.
His voice, usually so soothing and calming, felt different today. Every word he spoke seemed to be laced with an undercurrent of something more, something only the two of you were privy to. Each time he said your name, it felt like a secret shared, a promise made. However, he gave no indication of any change in your relationship, but those lingering glances, the slight change in his tone when addressing you, were enough to make you want to kneel right then and there. Pathetic.
Dinner felt like a strange dream, the food tasteless in your mouth as your mind raced with possibilities of what the event might hold. Would he bend you over and fuck you senseless? Would he slowly tease you and make you beg for his touch? Was he even going to touch you? You didn't even care at that point. You would take anything he gave you. You wanted him, needed him.
You finally left the Great Hall, your heart pounding in your chest, barely able to breathe, and made your way to Professor Lupin's quarters. The hallways, usually so familiar and comforting, felt alien tonight. You cursed yourself for being so nervous. You had willingly put yourself in this situation, yet at that moment, it was like you wanted to run away from it, the anxiety consuming you entirely.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before knocking softly. The door swung open almost immediately, revealing him standing there, his expression calm and composed.
"Come in," he said simply, stepping aside to let you enter. As you crossed the threshold, you felt like you were going to combust. His quarters were warm and inviting, a reflection of the man consuming your thoughts. A roaring fire cast flickering shadows across the room, bathing everything in a soft, golden light. It smelled of tea, fresh parchment, and something uniquely him. You were dizzy, nauseous, aroused, absolutely intoxicated.
"Sit," he gestured towards a chair near the fireplace. You did as you were told, your hands nervously clutching at the edge of your skirt. He took a seat opposite you, his gaze steady and serious.
"Before we continue," he began, his voice firm yet gentle, "we need to discuss the possible consequences and punishments if you fail to follow my instructions. It's important that you understand what is expected of you, and that you agree to these terms."
He paused, letting his words sink in, before continuing. "Are you ready to hear them?"
You swallowed hard and forced yourself to maintain eye contact with him. "Yes," you finally let out, your voice barely above a whisper.
He arched an eyebrow, a clear sign that you'd made a mistake. "Yes, what?" he corrected, his tone stern.
You blinked, realizing your error. "Yes, Sir," you corrected yourself, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"Good. Firstly, if you fail to maintain eye contact or address me properly during our sessions, you will lose privileges. This could mean that our sessions are shortened or certain activities are taken off the table."
You nodded, feeling the heat pool between your legs. The simple act of him giving you a mundane instruction was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat, and you hated yourself for it. He was your weakness and you could not deny it.
"Secondly," he continued, "if you fail to follow my instructions, either inside or outside our sessions, you will be given a chance to explain yourself. However, if I find your explanation unsatisfactory or if it happens repeatedly, you may be subjected to physical punishments. These may include, but are not limited to, spankings, or standing in the corner for a predetermined amount of time. Do you understand?"
You felt your heart race at the thought of such punishments. Were they even punishments for you? You were ready to beg to be spanked by him, to be manhandled, humiliated, but you managed to reply, "Yes, Sir."
"Very good," he continued, satisfied. "Lastly, I must remind you that if you ever feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or overwhelmed, you must tell me immediately. Failing to do so will be considered a breach of our agreement and may lead to the termination of our arrangement. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir," you said, feeling a strange mix of relief and apprehension. You went into this thinking you wouldn't have any limits, but how far would he be pushing you? And how much were you able to let go entirely?
He nodded, satisfied with your response, and leaned back in his chair, studying you with a focused gaze. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and it was oddly thrilling.
"Are you ready to proceed to the next part of our session?" he asked, his voice steady and calm.
"Yes, Sir," you replied again, feeling as if you were going to pass out.
"Good," he said, nodding in approval. "Stand up."
You quickly rose to your feet, your legs slightly shaky beneath you. His gaze never left you, taking in your every move, every reaction. It was dark, intense, almost predatory. A stark contrast to the kind and soft professor you were used to see in the classroom.
He stood up from his chair, moving to stand in front of you. "Kneel," he commanded. You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing, but eventually obeyed. Sinking to your knees on the plush rug in front of him.
He looked down at you, his gaze softening. "I can see you're nervous," he said, his voice gentle. "It's okay. I want you to relax and let me take over completely. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes Sir," you managed to whisper, your gaze flickering up to meet his.
He watched you, his gaze steady and patient. "Good girl," he praised, the words sending a jolt of electricity between your legs. You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a sense of pride that made you eager to please him further.
"Now," he said, his voice taking a more serious tone, "I want you to take off your shirt. Slowly."
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as you were told, slowly unbuttoning your shirt and sliding off your shoulders, leaving yourself exposed to him, your eyes locked with his.
He walked around you, his gaze taking in your bare upper body, burning into your skin, the anticipation making you shiver. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but there was something exhilarating about it, too. You were baring yourself to him, not just physically, but emotionally as well.
"Stay still," he instructed, his voice low and soft. You felt the tip of his wand touch your back, and you braced yourself for what was to come.
With slow, deliberate movements, he traced a pattern on your skin. It felt like a soft burn, not painful but intense. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound, your body tense.
The mark he left was intricate and beautiful. It resembled the moon in its various phases, starting from a full moon at the top of your spine, gradually waning to a crescent at the small of your back, only to wax back into a full moon. The lines were smooth and seamless, glowing faintly against your skin.
"Beautiful," he murmured, tracing the mark with his fingers. His touch was feather-light, but it was enough to make you shiver. "You've done well, taking the marking so bravely. Good girl."
Another rush of warmth spread through your chest at his words, at the pride in his voice. Your heart was racing, your skin tingling under his touch, but you felt more alive than you had in a long time.
"Remember," he said, his voice serious, "this mark is a symbol of our bond, of the trust between us. It's a reminder of the rules, the consequences, and the promise we've made to each other."
"Yes, Sir," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looked at you, his eyes searching your face. "Now, it's important for you to be able to express your desires openly and honestly," he said, his voice firm. "I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you. Use your words, and keep your eyes on me."
You felt your cheeks burn, your heart race. It was one thing to think about your fantasies, to imagine them in the privacy of your own mind, but to say them out loud, to admit them to him…was terrifying.
You tried to look at him, to meet his gaze, but your eyes kept darting away, unable to hold his steady stare. "Eyes on me," he reminded you, and you forced yourself to look back at him.
It took a few moments to find your voice, to gather the courage to say the words out loud. "I… I want you to… to take control, to… to make me submit to you."
He nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Go on," he urged, his voice soft but insistent.
You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to continue. "I want you to… to touch me, Sir. To push me to my limits, to make me… beg for your touch. To spank me until I can't speak anymore."
He leaned in slightly, his eyes locked with yours. "What else?" he asked.
You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I want you to… to tie me up, Sir. To bind me, to keep me helpless under your control."
He took a moment, studying your face, your eyes, looking for any signs of hesitation, fear, or uncertainty. Finding none, he nodded, his expression serious yet gentle.
"Stand up," he instructed firmly. "I want you to trust me. Let me guide you."
You stood, your legs a little shaky but your resolve strong.
"Good," he murmured, a note of approval in his voice. "Now, I want you to put your hands behind your back."
As you did as he instructed, he conjured a piece of silk rope, long and soft. Your heart pounded in your chest as he approached you, the rope in his hands.
He saw the look in your eyes and gave you a reassuring smile. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, Sir," you managed to whisper, your throat dry.
"Good," he said softly, before he started to tie your hands behind your back. His touch was gentle, the knots firm but not too tight, allowing enough room for your skin to breathe.
"Now, let's see about that spanking you asked for," he said as he sat back in his chair, guiding you over his lap, your hands still bound behind your back. His touch was firm yet gentle, making sure you were comfortable. He lifted up your skirt, making it pool around your waist, and slowly pulled down your panties, revealing your bare skin.
The first smack landed on your backside without warning, a sting that made you gasp. It wasn't painful, just surprising.
"Good girl," he praised. "You're doing well."
He continued, each smack making your body jolt, your skin tingle. You could feel the heat spreading between your legs. You were wet, the mix of pain and pleasure that was so intense, so arousing. You bit your lip and breathed deeply. It was all you could do to keep yourself from squirming. You could feel a bulge insistently pressing against your lower abdomen, a sign you were not the only one finding this arousing.
He would pause every now and then, his hand gently rubbing your ass, soothing the sting. His touch was comforting, grounding, a reminder that he was there, that he was in control, but that he was also taking care of you.
When he finally stopped, you were panting, your skin hot, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Good girl," he murmured, helping you sit in his lap. His eyes were soft, his voice full of praise. He placed his hands on your bare thighs, his hard length now pressing against your abused ass through his trousers.
He untied your hands, his touch gentle as he rubbed your wrists, soothing the slight sting from the ropes. He scanned your body for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, he stood from his chair, guiding you up to your feet. "On your knees," he ordered in a calm, steady voice.
You did as you were told, slowly sinking to the floor until your knees hit the soft rug beneath you, your eyes perfectly levelled with the evident arousal straining against the fabric of his trousers. Your heart pounded in your chest as he approached you, his steps slow and measured. His hand found its way into your hair, threading through the strands and closing into a firm grip. He tugged lightly, tilting your head upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were serious, dark with desire.
Your cheeks heated up as he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling your head closer to him, a silent command that made your heart race.
You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry as a knot of anxiety formed in your stomach. "Sir… I… I've never…" you started, your voice shaky.
He paused at your confession, his gaze softening. "It's alright," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I will guide you. But I will not ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with. Are you willing to proceed?"
"Yes, Sir," you replied, the knot in your stomach loosening slightly at his words.
His free hand reached down, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down just enough to free his hard length. He glanced down at you, his eyes locking with yours. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice soft but firm.
You nodded, whispering, "Yes, Sir."
"Good girl," he murmured. He positioned you properly, your hands resting on his thighs as he guided you forward. "I want you to start by kissing and licking the length of me, getting a feel for it."
Tentatively, you followed his instructions, placing soft, hesitant kisses along his length before using your tongue to explore his contours. He continued to hold your hair, guiding your movements as needed.
"Good girl," he praised again. "Now, take the head into your mouth, and slowly work your way down."
You did as he instructed, the intimacy of the act causing your heart to race. He guided your head with gentle pressure, his fingers still tangled in your hair. "Relax your throat and breathe through your nose," he advised, his voice never faltering.
As you continued, you found yourself getting lost in the sensation of him filling your mouth. You tried to be careful, to keep your teeth out of the way, to pleasure him. He was big, making your jaw hurt in a delightful way.
After giving you time to adjust to the new sensation, he took more control over the movements, his hand in your hair holding you in place as he slowly thrusted in and out of your mouth. "Keep your eyes on me," he commanded when you momentarily looked away, and you quickly refocused your gaze on his. "Take your time," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You're doing well. Just breathe."
You tried your best to follow his advice, to relax and just breathe, but you couldn't help but tense up as he pushed further, the unfamiliar sensation making you choke slightly. He paused immediately, pulling back a bit and giving you time to adjust.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yes, Sir," you managed to say, your voice muffled around his cock stuffing your mouth.
He began to move again, his eyes never leaving yours as he thrusted slowly and deliberately, hitting the back of your throat every time, making you gag.
"Relax your throat for me," he instructed, ensuring that you pleasured him as he desired. "That's it…just like that," he commanded, his voice low and gruff, thick with desire.
His breath hitched as you took him deeper, causing him to let out a low growl of approval. The sight of you on your knees, teary eyed, with your swollen lips stretched around him drove him closer to the edge. He could feel his release building, the familiar coil in his lower abdomen tightening with every passing second. But he didn't want this to end, not just yet. He wanted to savor this moment, to draw out this sweet torture for as long as he could.
"Good girl…you're doing so well," he praised, his voice barely above a whisper. The praise made you feel warm, a sense of accomplishment washing over you.
You focused on your breathing, on his voice, on the sensation of him in your mouth. The taste of him on your tongue, his hand tightly gripping your hair, the sound of his growl every time he hit the back of your throat…it was intoxicating, it was enough to make you come right then and there. But this was not about you, it was about his pleasure, about him dominating you in the most intimate way. You couldn't help but close your eyes at the thought, your hands gripping his thighs in an attempt to ground yourself.
"Keep your eyes on me," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "Don't look away." And as you complied, your gaze locking with his, he felt a sense of possessiveness wash over him.
His thrusts became more urgent and forceful, and you struggled to keep up, your jaw growing tired and your eyes watering. But you were determined not to disappoint him, so you pushed through the discomfort.
His grip on your hair tightened, his breaths becoming ragged. "I'm close," he warned, his voice strained.
His words sent a jolt of anticipation through you, your heart pounding in your chest. He was trusting you with this, with his pleasure, his release.
He looked down at you, his gaze intense. "Swallow for me," he commanded, his voice low and hoarse.
The command was a shock and made your heart pound in your chest, a flush creeping up your cheeks. But you nodded, ready to obey, ready to please him.
In one final deep thrust, he groaned, his release washing over him as he spilled himself in your mouth. "Swallow," he commanded, his voice a low growl.
You could feel his cock pulse on your tongue, the warm salty liquid filling your mouth. You struggled, the sensation and taste overwhelming. But his grip on your hair remained firm, holding you there as he watched you swallow down his seed, some of it dribbling down your chin.
When he finally pulled away, there was a moment of silence, a pause filled with heavy breaths and the pounding of your heart. He looked down at you with a gentle but intense gaze, his thumb wiping away the salty remnants of his release. He brought it up to your lips, and without hesitation, you opened your mouth to suck it clean, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes. The sight was sinful enough to make his cock twitch once more.
After a moment, he helped you to your feet. His touch was soft, caring as he helped you put your shirt back on. The fabric was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat still emanating from the mark he had left on your back.
He stepped back, studying you for a moment. Then, he reached out, his hand coming up to cup your chin. "I have a new rule for you," he said, his voice low and serious.
You looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.
"You are not to touch yourself without my explicit permission," he stated, his gaze never leaving yours. "Do you understand?"
You nodded, a rush of excitement coursing through you, although you couldn't deny the disappointment. You weren't sure how you would be able to hold out once you were on your own with your filthy mind, replaying tonight's encounter. "Yes, Sir."
"Good," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Then, he moved to your neck, his lips pressing against the soft skin. You could feel the pressure build, a sharp sting as he sucked a deep red mark onto your skin. The sensation was both pleasurable and painful, a reminder of your submission to him.
His voice was a whisper against your skin as he spoke next. "Tomorrow," he began, pulling away to look at you, "I want you to wear no panties for our next session."
You swallowed hard, nodding in understanding. "Yes, Sir."
He smiled at you, his expression soft. "Now, off you go. I expect you to complete your homework and go to bed early. Rest up; you'll need your energy for our next session."
You looked into his eyes, feeling a mix of excitement, anticipation, and gratitude. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."
With a final, lingering touch to your cheek, he sent you on your way, his gaze following you as you left his quarters. The night air was cool against your heated skin as you made your way back to your dormitory, your mind racing with thoughts of what had transpired, and what was to come.
As you lay in bed that night, the red mark on your neck throbbing gently, your skin tingling with an afterglow that made your knees weak. You couldn't shake off the memory of his touch, his voice, his gaze - it was all too much, too overwhelming, and you were desperate to touch yourself.
Every nerve in your body was screaming for his touch, his command. You wanted to feel his hand threading through your hair again, his fingers gripping firmly. You wanted to hear his low, firm voice, instructing you, guiding you, praising you. You craved the sense of surrender, the thrill of obedience, the intoxicating rush of relinquishing control.
Another part of you hated feeling so submissive, so weak, so desperate. You hated the fact that you needed him, that you wanted him. It was confusing, conflicting. And yet, there was something about him – something that drew you in, something that made you want to submit, to surrender. His gentle yet firm demeanor, his patient understanding, his stern but caring guidance – it all made you feel seen, heard, valued.
Your fingers traced the red mark on your neck - a constant reminder of your submission, of your surrender. Your throat was sore from being used. Your scalp was sensitive from having your hair pulled. You could still feel his hand on your backside. He was everywhere. On your skin, in your mouth, in your stomach. And it was perfect. And you wanted more, needed more, craved more.
356 notes · View notes
springalwayscomes · 9 months
Text
Closer: Too Close (II)
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Closer Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Before this comes: Closer: Too Close Masterlist Taglist
Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… closer may be too close for you to handle.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers
Wordcount: 47.5k
Content Warning: Dirty talk, swearing, pining, mentions of masturbation, masturbation, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, squirting, public sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, love making, creampie
Author’s Note: Hello, here it is!! Honestly I didn’t think I would write a second part to Closer, I felt like the end of that was the best I could give to these two, but it received so much love and when I read it again I couldn’t hold myself back. Still, I consider the first part the main one, you can read that without having to read this. I would add though, that these two here just make me want to scream for the bond they have. I didn’t say the time I would publish it to feel a little more relaxed with the editing but you asked me before and I thought I’d make it on time for 1 am KST so sorry if I kept you waiting! I hope you’ll like this, and happy birthday Jungkook! Take this as a little gift💜
P.s I hate tumblr, I had to split the story in different parts because it was too slow and apparently every post has a limit of 1000 blocks, so here you’ll be able to find the beginning of your reading:
Closer: Too Close, it’s all part of the same story!
If you want to be tagged in my taglist to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜
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Jungkook is standing not too far, eyes on the ground and hands deep in the pockets of his skinny jeans he munches on his lips nervously and you see already that he’s trying to take in deep breaths, his chest is swelling.
«Koo» you call out as you get closer. He turns immediately, eyes meeting yours without any efforts.
«What happened?» 
He shakes his head, looks over at the building in front of him. You take his side, attach your back to the wall of the restaurant.
«What is it?» you ask. 
«Talk to me,» your hand strokes his back «please?»
Silence fills the space between you, the space outside, every road near to you for a second. Time goes by slow as you wait for him to say anything, the way his breath comes out shaky makes you munch on your lips. A clacson echoes from afar and Jungkook finally opens his lips, but just to close them again for a few seconds.
«I- We’re still the same» he blurts out. 
«We’re still best friends and you’re still my friend» he doesn’t even look at you as he speaks.
«What- what does that mean? Of course, we’re still-»
«You’re still my best friend and it’s fucking killing me, Y/n» he finally faces you. What you read in his expression is scary, it makes you lower your shoulders and double check for any signs of teasing, but there’s isn’t any.
«What- I’m not following you» 
«I can’t-» he shakes his head «I can’t do this. I love you so fucking much it’s freaking killing me and you’re here putting Taehyung’s perilla leaves in his rice when I can’t even hug you in public» 
«What-»
«What what?» he exclaims, gesturing with hands «You’re still my best friend! Nothing changed and I-»
«Everything changed, Jungkook!» you can’t believe what he’s saying.
«I love you! What do you mean nothing changed?»
«It doesn’t matter- not- it matters, fuck it matters, but it doesn’t matter cause I can’t show you!» his tone raises. 
You feel the need to wrap your arms around him suddenly. You’re blowing smoke through your ears but the need to make him calm down takes over and all you end up doing is take him in your hold and squeeze him tight. Jungkook stays limp with his head hanging onto your shoulder, eyes watering as your hands stroke his back. It remembers him of when he was shaking and crying before he blurted his feelings out, the fear of losing you and the need of having you but not as close as he wants look kind of similar now. He knows, fuck he knows it deep inside him that your love is enough, more than enough actually, more than he ever could ask for, but having to restrain himself from showing it it’s so fucking hard that it’s killing him. Especially when he sees you do those little gestures for the others, while he keeps repeating himself that he should be careful. You’re not even the same as before, it’s all blurred just like his vision right now.
«Talk to me?» you whisper. He lets out a deep breath, shaky and frail, totally vulnerable now that he has you wrapped around him. He digs his nose into your skin, nuzzles in the crook of your neck just for the sake of it. He has you, he repeats to himself. He has you.
«I feel like-» he gulps «like I have you only when we’re alone. Like- you belong to me only when we’re together»
His fingers entangle with the cloth of your dress as you stroke his neck slowly. You wait for him to add more, but there’s only the raise of his chest against yours following.
«Why did you have to do that?» he whines high pitched.
«What did I do?» you hum. His digits dig into your back.
«The perilla leaf» he whines again. It hits you just now and Jungkook feels his cheek burn at his words cause he knows that it may sound childish, but it’s just- annoying. 
«You’re- the perilla leaf? You’re jealous?» you can’t believe it.
«Cause I peeled off his perilla leaf?»
«Yes!» he nuzzles his nose deeper into you, almost as if by doing so his mind could hide from the outwardly flimsy problem.
«You should do that to me! It’s intimate, too sweet to do with him!»
«Jungkook, I was helping Taehyung out, he’s my friend» 
«You helped him with your chopsticks, that you put into your mouth and eat from, and it’s- why didn’t you do it with me?» he mewls. You seriously don’t think you should be laughing right now, cause he’s serious and it’s something important for him yet you can’t help but find the situation amusing.
«You were fine on your own!» you blurt.
«And I would’ve done the same if-»
«No you wouldn’t, cause you don’t want them to know that there’s more between us» he squeezes you tighter but levels his face to yours, blinking as he takes in your closeness.
«We’re barely speaking when we’re all together. You’re so into not showing what we are that you’re barely acting like you’re my best friend, it wasn’t like this before»
«That’s not true! I-»
«The other time, you didn’t greet me,» he reminds you of what happened at Eunji’s place «yesterday when I came in you didn’t say anything»
«Cause they were there» you huff back, but he just raises his eyebrows and nods.
«Yes, but it wasn’t like this before. You- didn’t even say hi. Earlier too, all you do is… getting far. I can’t even put my arm around you anymore that- you feel the need to part, at Taehyung’s place too, why do we have to wait?» he keens at the last sentence.
«You’re far, too far and I- I can’t… I don’t like this. I feel like we’re not- like we’re back at having each other but not wholly. I want- shit, I want you. I want to have you, in front of everyone,» he blubbers as he stares down at you «I don’t want to care if they see us being too sweet or clingy and just being a couple» 
Jungkook isn’t filtering his words anymore. His chest feels heavy and now he realises that- it was this that was making him annoyed. Getting to you for a second but feeling distant the second later, this continuous game of seesaw where you’re on the same board, apparently on the same page but still so far and out of reach, you balance yourself on the same point only for just a second, and then you’re back to where you were.
His breath fans your face and your hair tickle your skin, he lays his forehead on yours: «I can’t hold it back, I’ve been holding myself back for so much time that… I don’t want to. And I know that you need time and you’re doing this to get used to us and it’s going to happen soon anyway but- I just wish I could show you. I want to do the same that Jin does with Hana and Yoongi with Hyunjoo and even Jimin with Eunji, I-» he stops himself to let out a deep breath and tries to regain his lucidity. 
He knows, he knows that you’re doing this to love him in the right way for you but… he just can’t hold it back anymore. Too much time, too many years, too many moments in which he wished he could just be more for you, too many feelings never told or shared. Your love is enough to keep him through all of this, to make him keep going without asking a second time to where you’re heading, but when you seem out of reach its just-
«It’s scary» he realises.
Silence fills the air up again and for a moment Jungkook feels as far as he’s ever been even though he’s in your arms in front of you, just an inch away.
«I’m scared» he breathes out. His eyes previously lost in thought now look at you with more focus.
«It reminds me of when we were friends and all I could do was wonder how it could be and have you only when we had sex. When I made love to you that time, I-» he shakes his head «I felt like it was going to be the most I could get of you, and I needed to cherish it and live it as much as possible cause I knew that you didn’t want more from me and that that was all I could get. Like I had to get enough from it, cause it was the closest I could have you and in the deepest way possible. That time, it felt consuming and I cried so much when you left my bed cause I knew- I knew that it was it, just that»
«Even though I had you in the deepest way possible you- you weren’t mine. And I know that it’s different now cause we talked about it and we’re trying but- I don’t want to feel this,» his fingers cradle the shirt on his chest «I don’t want to get just enough of you» 
He munches on his lips for a few seconds, eyes low on his shoes as he tries to understand the right words to say, they just get mixed up and all he can do is hoping for you to realise what he’s meaning.
«I want to love you. I wanna be sweet and gentle and I want to see your eyes shine when you look at me cause you’re in love with me as much as I’m in love with you. I don’t want to always wish for us to be alone to be able to have you in this way, and I know that you’re doing this to get used to us and feel more comfortable but it’s making me lose my mind. Taehyung is always hugging you and doing all kinds of stuff and I’m- I’m your boyfriend» it sounds more like a question than an affirmation «and I can’t even hug you as I used to cause you think they would understand. I can do it, but know just- it’s killing me»
His rant comes to an end. He just shuts his mouth, regains his breath as he looks at your face, he desperately tries to understand what you’re thinking and feeling, his heart thumps in his throat and he’s sweating even though it’s almost about to rain and there’s a soft wind blowing. Truth is, his words leave you thoughtless. You don’t know what to think, what to say, what’s the right answer. Because inside you, you’re the one who wants him wholly. You want him, crave for his love, need his lips, yearn for his comfort and words, breathe for his presence. But outside, when you’re met with the world, all you can do is face the way you are and understand what you should be doing to make this relationship solid and strong. Maybe you’ve been wrong all along and should’ve just lost your senses to him from the very beginning. You should’ve told to everyone what happened between you and should’ve just took it as it was, but something inside you doesn’t fit well with it because you just don’t feel ready enough. You love him, you love him so much you’d be ready to do everything he asks you to, but this somehow makes you quiver. 
«I’m scared too,» you breathe «cause what if- like, what if we do this and it doesn’t work? What if we’re not ready, if I can’t love you right? I know Jungkook my friend and how to love you in that way, I don’t- it’s sounds stupid, but what if the way I love you isn’t what you were seeking for me all this time and I just- let you down? If I’m not enough and everyone knows, what will we do then, these are the thoughts that stop me. Not for our friends or in general, but for us too, how will we act? I’m scared because- fuck, the thought of losing you makes me freeze in fear, Jungkook. I’m trying, I’m really trying to getting used to this but before- before it was… it didn’t feel like a thin line between us. Like, I knew that you were there even if we screamed and yelled at each other, you were just there. If we break up, our friendship… what will happen to that? What-»
«It’s not happening» he cuts you off. You shake your head.
«You say that now, but-»
«No, I say it cause it’s not happening, in any near vision of the future I have or the rarest ones» his nostrils flatter as he speaks and his tone is firm and still as a mountain on the ground, roots deep and strong in his soil.
«I loved you for six years. I went through hell just to get to this, I loved you for every second of the day and all I did was be beside you,» he clenches his jaw «it’s simply not happening. For me, at least. I know what I feel, and I know that the only reason I kept staying beside you was because of you, simply. I love you» his eyes are watering.
«I love you so much that I don’t picture myself without you. I don’t see a future where you’re not in it, and even though I know I could live without you, I just don’t want that» he shakes his head with vigour, his eyes glued to yours make you gulp harshly.
 «Even when we fight, even now. It’s still the same as before, you can yell at me and tell me that you hate me, that I’m annoying, I’m a jerk or whatever the hell you want but- I’m grounded. I don’t move, I don’t care. If there’s a scenario in which you won’t love me anymore then-» he cuts himself off, his right eye spilling out a tear that marks his cheek «all I could do would be to accept it. But that won’t happen for me. I know it, it won’t. I’ll be waiting with my arms open like I told you last time and the time before, even in this kind of relationship. You’re still my best friend, other than my partner and- I won’t waver. I promise you, and I’m so sorry if in some way I made you think that you couldn’t love me in the way I want you to cause- no» he scoffs as his eyes fill up more with tears.
«Hell, no. There’s no one that could love me in a better way, I- your love is just- it consumes me. It makes me feel in all kinds of way and I can’t get enough of it. I want it, all the time and in every situation because of that» he sniffles and licks his lips, the salty taste of tears makes him look down once more to the ground.
«I don’t want to pressure you. I don’t want to do anything that might scare you off and I’m as scared as you now cause- what if you’re saying this cause you’re- you’re giving up? You don’t want… I can’t even say it»
«Jungkook, no» something inside you makes you grab him by his shoulders. His lips are reddish and his cheeks wet make your eyes tingle. Shit, no.
«What if I scared you off with everything I said? You might say no now but if you’re not ready to tell them, it means you’re insecure about us, right?» his lips tremble slightly and god, your heart clenches. 
«You don’t know if there’s a future for us, what I see isn’t there for you» his voice is so thin that you feel you’re about to break. And as if it wasn’t enough, it starts to rain almost as if someone from the clouds was listening ready to answer to all of his negative thoughts with a sign. His eyes stay on yours though, a shadow of fear lights them up just to hide between his pupils a second later. Jungkook munches the inside of his upper lip.
«You know I don’t move fast and I like things to take their time, right? It was just what I feel but it doesn’t have to be what you feel now, but I love you. For real baby, it doesn’t matter if for now you don’t see us together in the future, just-»
«I see that, Jungkook» you stop his words with a caress of your hand on his wet cheek, nodding. You could- you couldn’t bare the thought of him having such worries in his mind, not when your soul is so intertwined with his that you can’t see anymore where yours starts and ends.
«I see it, but it feels scary cause we’ve never been on this path before. It’s different, but I see us in that way. I’m just scared that my fantasy might not become reality, that’s- that’s why I wanted to get used to this first but now- I can’t» you shake your head. You see his face go from relieved to understanding to scared again, hands grabbing your sides at the fear of you walking away and out of his reach for the last part of your statement. He tells himself to breathe, to just wait for you to speak and relax but all he can do is hold his breath until he’s running out of air.
«I can’t do this if it hurts you. I don’t want to, so- what… what do you think we should do? Do you want to tell them? Do you-»
«I didn’t tell you all of that to convince you to tell them. It was just becoming too much and I couldn’t hold it anymore in, you don’t have to- I mean, maybe I hoped you would’ve, but you don’t have to» he pulls you closer to nuzzle his face against your neck once more. His tears wet your skin and you feel his hot breath fanning you when he realises a sigh at the contact, your body still close and your arms wrapping around him once more just as you did at the beginning of your talk. It’s reassuring, familiar. It makes him relax a bit and melt into you.
«To have you like this it’s not enough because I wish I could show you and give you more than what I can give when we’re only by ourselves, but if that’s what you want and need now…»
«Let’s tell them» you blurt. Your hand caresses his hair, eyes staring at the wall in front of you. Jungkook hums with a cute astonished tone that makes you scoff and tell yourself that it will be okay, his face raises to yours to study your features. You gulp down your insecurities for as much as you can and nod at him.
«Let’s tell them. I don’t want to hurt you by keep doing this. I think that-» you breathe in deeply, pondering on what his words made you realise just a second ago «my doubts are still going to be here for as long as I don’t get comfortable enough with this, like with myself not being scared. If it will take long, we’ll have to act like this for too much time? And I guess that if my fears are going to become real it will happen anyway even if they don’t know»
«What do you mean it will take long?» he smacks your asscheek lightly, a endearing smile appears on his lips. It makes you smile too.
«It will take long to get used to me loving you?» he scoffs loudly, eyes moving to the side for a second and then getting back to yours.
You giggle at him, squeeze him tighter «You know what I mean» you huff. 
«And yes, I’m still not used to you loving me in this way too» 
«I will help you get used to it,» he pecks your cheek «just please do what you feel more comfortable to. Don’t feel pressured or forced, I don’t wanna do that. Whatever way, baby. I’m willing to accept whatever you can give me»
«Let’s not do that anymore,» you let out a shaky breath «maybe I need to feel a bit of pressure to do this, so please pressure me? Let’s go inside and just tell them? Pressure me, please» 
Jungkook doesn’t mean to, but he laughs at your words. He laughs and throws his head back, hair a bit damp and laughter crystal clear and high pitched. Only when he comes back with his eyes on you the corners of his lips lower and set themselves on a little, sweet and reassuring smile that makes your heart fuller.
«Y/n, I can really wait. But just reassure me from time to time cause I’ve been holding back for so much and sometimes-»
«Can you reassure me too, now? And push me over the edge a little? It’s- bad to say it but I think I really needed for you to break out like this to make me gather the courage to face what really scared me. I think that it will help me to have you like this, in other situations too? Maybe it will feel more like before and my mind will stop drawing the line between friendship and- this, and realise that it’s just the same as before» 
You really believe it, or at least have faith in it. Maybe feeling him the way you used to feel him before, without having to worry of getting yourselves away from the eyes of your friends or the others in general will make you feel more comfortable, more familiar with what you’re sharing without the fear of losing it, because it’s just the same as before. Jungkook is still your best friend, will always be. You want him to tease you when your hair are both grey and to kiss you when your energies won’t be as high as now, bring some comfort and sense of youthful to your older days. To be honest, you always had that image in your mind. Even when you didn’t know what you were feeling… Jungkook was always there, in your farthest visions of future, teasing and annoying the hell out of you with his ways but still there after all the time. It’s just the same as before with this too, you guess.
«And this? What’s this?» he pinches your hip teasingly, making you hiss at him.
«Aish, Jungkook!» you keen at the muffled pain and he beams lightly, covering the injured zone with his hand. 
«Sorry,» he pouts, eyes big «does it sting?»
«A little, I felt better before» you scoff.
«This what?» you echo, he clicks his tongue.
«You said friendship and this. What’s this?» he’s smiling even as he speaks, cheekbones high. And with his eyes so deep and profound that shine even under the light drops of the rain you can see it from a mile away that he just wants to hear you say it out loud. 
«This,» you peck his petals sweetly, his bottom lip sticks out a little to maintain the contact just a millisecond more as you part, eyes dreamy «relationship?» 
He stretches out a hum: «So I’m you’re boyfriend now?» he scoffs.
You raise your eyebrows. 
«You said that before. I was just following»
«Keep following then, I like it» he titters, doing his labelled nose scrunch that makes your insides twist and turn.
«We’re in a relationship» he hums again, all smiley and lovey-dovey. You shake your head.
«Are you a teen or what?» you laugh. His chuckles make the sound of the rain become faint until it’s just indistinct silence.
«Yah, stop teasing me! We never said that out loud» 
«Just this once» you let go, slapping his asscheek.
«I think you have a problem with my butt,» he clicks his tongue «you like it a little too much, why do you slap it all the time?» he giggles.
«Aish, stop that. We should go back in» you shrug, Jungkook squeezes you just once more.
«That was- I was trying to push you over the edge?» he doesn’t even know what he’s saying.
«Guess that didn’t work» he scoffs. You can’t hold it, you kiss his lips and god yes, this works definitely. He totally wasn’t expecting it, not when you’re outside and your friends just meters away and could come out in any second, not in this way at least. So deeply and loving and needy that he moans in your mouth and his knees feel like jelly, your tongue moves in slow motions and takes all of his love from his chest just to make it yours cause it was yours already in the first place.
«Try something else?» you coo when you part. Jungkook breathes in deep, trying to regain what’s left of his sanity after your attempt at killing him with your sweet ways. 
«Are you sure, you really want it?» his tone is serious, thoughtful as he looks for any signs of quiver on your face. Having you like this it’s too much too handle but the thought of forcing you into doing something that may make you uncomfortable feels worse. When you nod sure though, all he can do is promise to try to melt your insecurities more everyday with every part of him and love you in the most honest, vulnerable and deepest way he can. He knows it from the way you’re looking at him that you’re not going to change your mind, you’re just looking for his affirmation, you just need to be encouraged.
«If you really want to, let’s tell them,» he pecks your forehead «just, not today? I feel like they have to tell us something important and I don’t want to shift the spotlight on us»
«What something?» you wonder.
«Don’t know, but it’s weird that they invited just to celebrate officially. We all already knew they were expecting» he caresses your hip as he speaks, after all it makes sense, you guess. It’s been a while since they announced Hyunjoo was pregnant, why celebrate now? They would’ve done it sooner, maybe.
«Okay» you nod. It’s weird how you feel your body lighter, you weren’t realising it before but now you do notice the difference, and it feels- less burdensome. You needed this to let go of what was holding you down and to face your fears, to make your roots stronger in the soil. You just wish for the day you’ll tell them to come soon, because you suppose that the sooner it will be the easiest too to just let go wholly.
«Do you remember what I texted you when you went away?» he lays his chin on your head, speaks as you bend your arms to place your hands on his shoulders. You nod slightly from under him, fingers dipping into his skin as his words flash in your mind.
«It will always be like that,» he mumbles. 
«even when you’re not beside me I’ll always keep my arms empty for you, even when things are fine. I’ll keep them open. Even if we fight and scream and hate each other in the moment» 
You kiss his neck, when you blink against him your eyelashes tickle him, Jungkook shivers and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s feeling ticklish or because you do things to him that he can’t explain.
«I love you» you murmur, eyes looking up at him. The rain has wetted you hair a bit, thankfully it isn’t too much and it’s already stopping, but even like this you look like you were painted by the gods themselves to him. He holds his breath, smiles first with his eyes.
«I love you too, love»
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When you came in your friends were cheerfully talking about Yoongi and Hyunjoo, when you strolled to the table your eyes met yours to check how you were doing. The smile that Jungkook flashed seemed enough to reassure them, making them go back to their conversation, Namjoon peeking over to double check Jungkook’s features. 
He takes his sit, hands resting on his lap before he looks at the dish still full in front of him. The rice has cooled but he’s hungry and so are you, you hear Jimin ask meat to Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok scolds him and Taehyung laughs at his request, Eunji shakes her head. You eat your perilla leaf with the rice and linger in the slightly minty flavour, humming in contentment at the taste. Taehyung’s dish is empty and you feel his gaze pierce right through you as he peeks at Jungkook from time to time, obviously trying to understand his mood and what happened. You wonder if he knows at least a bit, if the others know too. Maybe Jungkook told them when he had feelings for you? 
Eunji kicks her foot on your knee, eyes big and full of questions and you just shrug at her, making her click her tongue in annoyance. She must be thinking that you’re back to sleeping with Jungkook. You decide not to care for now, bringing another bite of food in your mouth, you will tell her soon. The evening goes on cheerfully just like most of the times; Jin talks about the restaurant, Hoseok tells you stories about his new class of dancers, Namjoon talks about the book he read recently and how it made him think about what Yoongi and Hyunjoo have.
«Yah, geumanhae» Yoongi moves his hands in front of his face, his cheeks red but he’s smiling.
«Hyung, for real!» you can say that Namjoon is enjoying making him flustered.
«It really made me think»
Hyunjoo smiles, tapping her hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder.
«What are you so shy about?»
«I’m not shy, I’m flustered»
«That’s the same thing!»
«It isn’t!» he raises her eyebrows at her. Namjoon shakes his head. Jimin’s laughter suddenly fills the table, loud and giggly he covers his mouth with his fist as he bends over the table. 
«Sorry, but-» he laughs again «I just remembered when Yoongi hyung came home after meeting you for the first time» he points at Hyunjoo, eyes narrowed as he keeps giggling. Jungkook and you break out too, suddenly remembering the scene.
«Aish, hajima!» He whines again and throws his head back, but the scene was just so hilarious that it would be a waste not to share it.
«She has to know this» Jimin shrugs.
«What happened?»
«I was-» he keeps on laughing «I was cooking with Y/n and Jungkook was sitting on the couch. He came in staring at his phone and didn’t even see him» 
Jungkook nods: «Actually, I was laying on the couch» he snorts
«Aigoo» she already pictures where this is going.
«He sat on him-»
«He didn’t just sit! He threw himself on the couch!» Jungkook cuts him off, face contracted in a scowl of pain.
«Me and Y/n-» he laughs pointing at you, full teeth on display.
«We just heard them from the kitchen but it was hilarious. Turns out he was staring at your pictures on Instagram» you explain.
«I never thought Yoongi hyung could wait so much,» Jungkook chuckles, hands rubbing his thighs «his weight, aish he isn’t even that big but I was sleeping and suddenly- bang!» the sound effect he makes at the end sends you rolling on the floor with laughter, Yoongi’s shocked sounds still echoing in your ears.
He covers his face with his hands, Hyunjoo laughs beside him as the others do the same. She pulls him to him, the man shakes his head and hides in in her neck, hair falling over to hide him from the embarrassment. You see her whisper something to him but don’t know what she’s saying, Yoongi nods slightly and sits back straight, a big smile on his face.
«After you’re done with making fun of me, we have something to announce» he clears his throat. Hyunjoo stands up from her chair, her hand reaching his shoulder again while she looks down at you all and Yoongi takes his place beside her with a big beam, his hand cupping her belly lovingly. Jungkook’s eyes shot wide open, lips contracted in a “o”. The table fills with silence, everyone is waiting for them to speak and you can feel the excitement bubble up for the news.
«We’re expecting-» she gets cut off by the dumbass beside you.
«A girl! I can feel it» you smack your best friend’s shoulder.
«Shut up» you scold. Hyunjoo laughs, her eyes on you two.
«Yoongi» she calls. The man beside her nods.
«A princess» he scoffs looking at Jungkook, annoyed and amused at the same time.
«It’s a girl!» he literally screams. After that it’s just smiles and happiness, everyone is clapping and the restaurant gets filled with hugs and pats and words of encouragement.
Jungkook grins widely, his teeth exposed and eyebrows raised he claps his hands and gets up to hug his friend, just after Jin. Your beam is contagious and it only makes Jungkook smile more, when you look at him his eyes sparkle. Promises to be the best aunts and uncles for the soon to come baby are shared, Yoongi is already talking about some names that they thought about, Hyunjoo has her eyes wet. 
You can’t wait, nobody can’t. Seeing Yoongi get to know Hyunjoo and fall in love was one of the experiences that you feel lucky to have witnessed. You saw him madly in love, watched him when he thought that she wasn’t the type of person to go well with him because of their different personalities, saw them fall in love and fight more than a bunch of times and do it all over again. You remember when he told you he couldn’t live anymore without her, relive the time he cried with you and Jimin cause he was missing her when they had a bad fight and she needed to spend some time on her own, see them happy now after trying for a year. Their story brings tears to your eyes almost every time you think about it, it’s one of those that you would love to read about. You love both of them so much that you couldn’t wish for anything better, cause they already are the best of the best for each other, and all you can do is start to count the days until you’ll meet the result of their incredible love.
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Your house is silent and the atmosphere cozy, Jungkook’s fingers are softly stroking your hair on the couch and your mind is full of him and him only. How he talked to you today, the words he said, the safeness and reassurance they brought to your uneasy mind, the love in his eyes and the salty tears on his cheeks. It fills you up until you feel an odd sense of belonging and yearning come together and take every living fibre of your body. You snuggle your nose into the side of his neck, his hand runs down your side to engulfs you into him, back against his chest and one of his legs crossing yours laid on the pillows. Jungkook’s chest is firm under you but incredibly comfortable and you find it so big that you feel the need to turn around and hide your face into it just to feel him closer. 
Jungkook lets out a airy breath, the softness of your hair makes his fingertips oversensitive just to take in every single detail of you, your body soft and totally limp on top of him to adore, to squeeze and nuzzle into. He wishes he could freeze this moment and make it last for more than he could ever ask for, remember the sensation of it all and keep it locked inside him for when he feels low-spirited or weary. 
«Have to shower» you mumble not really inclined to leave his embrace. Jungkook pecks your head sweetly, nods under you but squeezes you tighter.
«I have to shower too. Do you wanna cuddle afterwards or are you going to bed?» his cute lisp makes you smile. 
«Wanna cuddle» you munch on your lips, you wish you could see his face when you add «in the shower»
«Hmm?» his hum is one of those that slip out when he’s excited, slightly high pitched and not sure if he heard your words right.
«Let’s shower» you nod sitting up and turning your head to him. Laid on the pillows, his mouth is open and his eyebrows raised.
«Do you want to?»
«Do- do y-you mean together?» he stutters a bit, totally taken aback. His eyes are sparkling with hope and his enthusiasm is given out when he as soon as he speaks, the cute stutter habit he’s always had when he’s enthusiastic. You nod slightly and Jungkook snaps up with his eyes wide.
«Rea- really?»
«Yes,» you smile amused«if you want to?»
«Oh-aish, yes!» he nods eagerly but stops before he passes the point of not return.
«But- are you sure? We don’t ha-»
«I’m sure,» your eyes stay firm into his «I was scared of this too, I guess» 
He gulps down, hands coming back to your sides as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
«Open up to me?» his request is low, as if he doesn’t want it to sound like an obligation but more like an invitation, soft and muffled and honey-coated. When he kisses your cheek lovingly you dive deeper against him, the firmness of his chest behind you and the cage of his arms around you make you feel safe in a way that you could never describe. You feel the most frail when you’re in his arms and the most intrepid you’ve ever been at the same time, it makes your chest swell up with a feeling that is bittersweet and so deep that you feel like drowning. 
«I guess- I didn’t want us to get too sexual?» you shake your head.
«I thought that it would end up with us fucking, every time you asked me to shower together. It’s probably just the same as sleeping in the same bed, I guess»
Jungkook munches on his lips, slightly nodding.
«You don’t want that?» he’s not asking because he wants that to happen but to understand you fully. 
«I don’t know,» you huff «I didn’t, I think. But now I don’t know, like- I was scared that by being too sexual we- kind of lost sense? And I wanted things to move at their pace, not to rush. We’re living together already and it’s like we kind of skipped the part of the beginning of the relationship, the part where you get to know each other»
«I don’t think we’re in that part,» he lets out, hands rubbing your hips «we’ve been in that part already, I think? We know each other- deeply too»
«I know, but like- know each other in a relationship like the one we have now» you explain. He nods again.
«I got what you mean. But I think it’s- we love each other» he brushes his nose against the column of your neck just to tickle you «if we’re already there, how can we go back to getting to know each other? Like- I know what you mean, but I think that only comes with time? Wether you start from something that’s different from what we already had or from our starting point- I just know that I love you. And by that I mean that I want you in whatever way you’re able to have me and be. I don’t care if I find something that I might find annoying or- I love you. I just- want you»
«I realise it now» you squeeze his cheeks between your thumb and the rest of your fingers, his lips puffy and shutting up. Jungkook frowns, hums annoyed but let’s you do your thing, booping his nose and kissing the soft flesh of his cheek. When you let go, his act of displease shatters in pieces and a big beam replaces it on full display.
«I didn’t before» 
His arms squeeze you more, he shuts his lips for a while. The feelings in his chest get so mixed up that it’s hard to discern them, he just wishes that you could read through them all to see how transparent they are in fact.
«I love you» he hums, tone childish. It’s so out of the blue that you find yourself giggling and shaking your head, eyes rolling at the way he squeezes you to him. He bites your shoulder lightly as he nuzzles his nose into your skin.
«And what do you mean by losing sense?» he suddenly stops, voice muffled. 
«Losing sense, like- only getting sexual? Doing things just to get there, I don’t want that»
«I don’t want that neither, baby» he breathes and rests his chin on you again, hydrates his lips with his tongue.
«I love when we have sex. I love it, it’s like- some type of magic and it’s so intimate and vulnerable that it makes me overwhelmed every time, but- I don’t want you to think that it has to end like that» he shakes his head.
«If it ends like that it’s good, but it doesn’t have to. I love doing things with you just for the sake of it, cause you- you’re the person I want to share myself with» 
Your head rests on his shoulder as you let his words engulf you, tone lovely and calm.
«And it- we don’t lose sense if we feel like being sexual too. It’s beautiful, it means that we’re comfortable with each other that much»
«I know but when I think about it, it scares me» you let out a heavy breath.
«Eunji… do you remember how it ended up with that guy?»
«Eunji, what- what guy? The security guard?» he frowns totally out of place. You smack him on his thigh lightly, a scoff coming out of your lips. 
«No, Koo. Hyun?»
«Hyun?» his mind is totally blank.
«Hyun, the lawyer. The guy that she was friend with for a little and-»
«Oh! Yes, I remember him» he nods eagerly. 
«What does it have to do with us?»
«I don’t know, but- when I talked to her about us and we weren’t together yet she remembered me of what happened with him. I guess that thought blocked me too»
«Eunji knows?» he turns his face, eyes big and lips open.
«She doesn’t, she knows that we used to sleep together though»
He scrunches his nose, goes back to caress your hair.
«What happened with him was- it’s not us. They didn’t have anything. We- we love each other. We’ve been friends for a long time, we saw each other in every way» he puffs out a breath.
«And even if there are times when we’ll get too sexual, that doesn’t mean that we’re just looking for sex. There’s more, there’s trust, there’s-» he stops his rant because you peck his nose «stop that, I’m trying to be serious» 
«Oh, sorry» you face in front of you and Jungkook scoffs, giving up just to peck your cheek.
«Baby, for real» he whispers.
«I think it’s normal that in a relationship there are times or periods when there is a high sex drive but that doesn’t mean that we’re looking just for sex or love each other any less» 
«I know,» you nod «I’m just scared to get too caught up into it and lose what I have around me- like, lose you»
«It won’t happen,» he clicks his tongue «it won’t cause even if we get too caught up with it, it’s not- just sex» he digs his chin deeper into your shoulder.
«It’s more, I’m not fucking you just because you’re sexy or I find you attractive- it’s a whole different thing. It’s-» his fingers turn your face to make your eyes meet him.
«I’m making love to you. Even if we fuck each others brains out or have sex in Taehyung’s bathroom, there’s always more. There are always emotions and feelings and how much I love you. Every time, every single time. Even- if it’s not romantic at all and it’s just rough and needy, I- love you»
«And to know that you could trust me that much- to make me have that part of you, to allow me to live you in that way too makes me feel so fucking good and happy. How- how could that make us senseless or pointless? It’s love, I’m always making love to you»
«Fuck, stop. You’re gonna make me cry» you don’t think you can hold his words for much longer. Hearing him say things like this makes your brain melt and your insides twist with warmth and safeness and you wish you could just hide from the world and cry your eyes out for how much and how deeply you love him. 
He huffs a giggle, kisses your nose, stares at your wet eyes. Jungkook wants to give you everything you never had, everything he can give and more than both you and him could ever imagine. He wants to shower you with all the love he has inside him and with every little spark of it that colors the world. If he could take the light from the sun just to add a drop of love and appreciation to your world, he would do it right the fuck now. You make him want to lose himself and never find it again, live in the melody of your laughter and only see the sight of your smile. If his senses could be commanded he’d feel only when his fingers trace your curves and every part of you, from head to toe, he’d smell only your perfume and taste only your kisses and your salty tears, hear only your laughter and your voice when you sing and see only your eyes and how your shoulders swell when you laugh. 
«I’m- I’m here for whatever you’re willing to give and I’ll wait for the things that you don’t feel comfortable with yet» he whispers. 
You smile, and fuck, the love he has for you. An incredible amount that he never thought was possible, so much that it makes him crazy and desperate to give it in every way possible. His lips peck yours softly, so lovingly and so feather-like that he feels you shiver against him, back pressed into his chest and his arms wrapped so tight that a world outside doesn’t exist anymore. His lips are soft and they make you addicted with the feelings they bring, your eyes stay shut even when you part. He keeps you close and rests his forehead on yours, smiles at your expression as lost as his.
«I love you,» his thumb strokes your cheek «so freaking much I can’t put it into words»
«I know,» you push yourself more into his hand «it’s the same for me. I just- love you» 
When you open your eyes, you’re not sure where the hell you’ve been for all your life. Because to lose this sight- for god’s sake, it’s almost laughable how anyone wouldn’t stop to just stare at him. Yours, he’s yours and he’s always been and for all this time, all these worries and all your insecurities- they can’t outbalance this. Nothing can, nothing when he makes you feel this way, this loved and cherished. 
«Let’s shower,» you puff out «let’s shower» 
As if it wasn’t clear enough for him the first time. Jungkook nods and his lips peck you once more, when he looks in your eyes to check if you’re certain about what you’re doing they don’t shift, don’t budge for a nanosecond. They stay firm, staring into his pupils and spurring him on more to leave the couch and take care of you and show you how deep his love is. And fuck, it’s so deep that there’s no end to him anymore. 
There’s no end to the affection his arms carry with your body between them, holding you close to him even when he’s standing and you’re smacking his ass lightly and making him giggle, no such depth was ever measured in the world. The intimacy between your souls could never be described, it’s so emotional and compelling that you both feel it in your bones, in every nerve, every fibre of your bodies. You’re addicted to it, in love with it and with him with every living piece of you. 
You stroll to the bathroom, Jungkook engulfs you in his arms, he stomps his feet against the floor making the both of you stumble twice, giggles filling the air as you enter the room. He opens the water of his shower, checks the temperature before taking off his clothes and laying them on the counter beside the sink, eyes meeting yours when he sees you standing still and eyeing him. Totally naked, you can’t tear you eyes off of him. It’s like his body was painted by Botticelli, Da Vinci maybe. Lines perfect, every ridge and curve sweet but incredibly excruciating, agonisingly beautiful so. Skin yellowish and fair, lips reddish and full, long slender fingers beckoning you to him to hold you close, closer. Close is never enough with you. His cock is half hard but Jungkook doesn’t want to do anything about it, he just wants to feel you like this, have you in this way, linger in the trust you have in him. 
You let him hug you, let him kiss you drunk. 
Your fingers on his skin feel so good that he doesn’t think he will ever get used to them, they stroke his back as his hands reach the hem of your dress to help you out of it. 
«I love you so much» he lays a smooch on your cheek. 
«We say it so much» you mumble as you hide your face in his neck. He kisses your shoulder, lets his hand dance on your back in lovingly motions.
«Cause we love so much» he breathes.
His words leave you spinning, your mind is empty but your heart is full and swollen, your eyes travel back on his face to flash a smile at him. 
«Undress me» you nod. 
He beams devilishly, «Uh? We’re getting confident»
«Oh, shut up,» you shake your head «gonna do it myself-»
«No, no. Let me» he holds you still. His fingers lower back to the edge of your dress, as he grabs the cloth to make it slide on your skin he keeps his sight on your face and feels his lungs losing air when your cheeks color of a faint shade of red, the dress halfway over your hips. His soft lips caress your nose, your forehead and a second later he slides the material off of your arms in the air and over your head- no, he leaves it on your face.
«Jungkook!» your irritated tone makes him  erupt in a laugh and finally he takes it off. Your lips are contracted in a pout, a scowl on your face.
«You’re so annoying» you whine. 
«I like annoying you,» he pulls you closer to him «you’re cute when you pout»
«I’m always cute» you nod jokingly.
«Aish, too much is too much,» he shakes his head, his right hand smacking your asscheek lightly «should I shut you up?»
«That’s rude» your eyes widen.
«Why? With kisses?» he clicks his tongue. 
«Kisses? Oh-» 
«You thought I meant-» he stops to laugh, high pitched and melodious «rude?»
«The way you said it was rude, not the- wait, don’t laugh! So annoying, I hate you» 
«Aish, such a crybaby» he fondles you into his arms, his nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck and you let the blood that rushed to your cheeks get back to its usual path by hiding your face on his chest. 
«It’s not the right moment for that,» he breathes «now I just want to take care of you and shower you with kisses» 
«Your cock is hard» you hum sternly, making him scoff.
«Let it be,» he puffs out «we don’t have to do anything about it. I just wanna have you like this,» he kisses your shoulder blade «close and intimate» 
His fingers tickle your thighs, they slide perfectly over the cloth of your stockings and he hums on your skin when he hooks his fingers over the band, parting enough to take them off. When he’s done, you finally build up the courage to look down, and god- you wish you didn’t. He’s on his knees, starry night eyes looking up at you, deep and love drunk, totally lost. He look ethereal and so fucking pretty that your knees buckle and you have to close your eyes for a second, only to regain what’s left of yourself. 
Jungkook’s fingers travel all the way up from your ankles to your calves, to your knees and your thighs, until they reach your hips and he cups them softly. He kisses under your belly button, makes you look back down at him and a second later he’s lowering your panties and you feel so exposed that you want to cover your eyes. It’s stupid, you know it well but to have him like this, looking at you with his nose almost against your pelvis and his eyes drawing stars in your sky, it’s different than having him in bed. You were making love all the times you were naked in front of each other, and even though you were so exposed that you felt your soul burn with his touch, having him like this hits in a different way, the same intensity, the same love for each other, the same feeling in your chests but just with a different meaning to it. 
You lift your feet one at a time to help him get the garment fully off, balancing on one leg and steading yourself with your hand on his shoulder, but when he takes them off he doesn’t get up. You see his cock twitch but his eyes never leave yours, not even when he gets closer and lays the sweetest and consuming kiss on your mound, so chaste but loving and addicting that your heart stops beating. He pushes on the ball of his feet and stands up to tower again over you, a little smile takes over his features and his eyes narrow a little, drunk by the feeling of having you like this.
Your hands move on their own, grabbing his fingers and guiding them behind your back. Jungkook smiles more, pecks your neck and your cheek, the tip of your nose and your shoulder as he fumbles with the clasp of your bra, pushes the straps down your shoulders and lets the garment slide off when he parts from you, a shiver of coldness making his way on your skin at the loss of the warmth that his body provided. He can’t wrap his head around you, how beautiful you are. Every inch of skin makes his fingers itch because he’s just that desperate to feel you, even wantonly.
«You’re breathtaking» his words comes out frail, totally vulnerable and overwhelmed.
«I love you,» he shakes his head, feeling dumb for not being able to find a word that represents his feelings more «I love having this part of you- so exposed, just for me» his shoulders fall, and it seems to you that he’s almost surrendering to the hold you have on him; in fact, he is.
«I promise you, baby, there’s always more. It’s not just when we’re having sex, it’s whatever we do. Whatever I do, there’s always more. You’re- you’re love. You’re the meaning of love- for me. Everything I do, even when I annoy you or just make dinner for you or even when we fight or- it’s because I love you so much it fucking overwhelms me. Whatever we do together, don’t ever think that it’s for the sake of it cause- fuck, I love you all the time, everything I do» he breathes. 
The distance between you doesn’t get along to the feeling of warmth you’re craving for, especially when he’s opening himself so much that his chest is looking for air and his voice is full of tenderness. You take a step closer and hold him in your embrace, Jungkook breaths out heavily, his hair tickle your skin.
«So don’t ever think that it’s just about being sexual. It’s not- it’s not like that at all. Every time you- every time you look at me, I could combust just by that. Like this too, having you like this now too makes me feel like I’m- don’t know, can’t even explain it» his voice gets more feeble as he speaks until all there’s left is his whisper in your ears and the thumbing sound of your heart echoing in the bathroom. 
Jungkook is- fucking hell, he’s your world. The colours you perceive, the air you breathe, the softness of your sheets, the warmth of the fire in full winter, your favorite dish, the feeling you get when a long and tiring day is finally over. He’s everything and anything all at once and it makes you want to let go of yourself and find yourself at the same time, love deeper than what you could’ve ever imagined. 
«I won’t,» you hug him tightly «I won’t do it anymore. Thank you, for- loving me as much as I love you» 
Your words have a strange hold on him, he smiles so fucking big but his eyes tingle and he has to bite down on his lips to keep himself rational, cause fuck- he’s still not used to this either. To finally feel you his, under his fingers, in his hold, to have your heart. All the love he had to held back sometimes slaps him in the face and when he faces the reality now it just makes him dizzy. 
«Don’t- thank me for that,» he nuzzles his face into you more «I don’t think I could ever stop» 
You feel something wet on your skin, just slightly. Jungkook sniffles, and then you get it. Your hands fumble with his hair as you kiss his skin, your fingertips dig into his back.
«Did I- did I make you-»
«No,-» he gulps down, raises his head to look at your eyes «I’m- just- fuck, I’m sorry I cry a lot lately» he scoffs to himself.
«No! No baby, just- let it out» you peck his nose. He scrunches it cutely, takes in a staggered breath.
«It’s nothing, I just- sometimes it still doesn’t feel real. To hear you say that- made me emotional, I guess» 
You smile at him. It’s sweet and home-like and a second later you’re squeezing him tighter to you and Jungkook decides to let go. He lays his chin back on your shoulder, closes his eyes, lets your motions lull him and your touch relax him. His cock is tight between you and with your movements you make it a little uncomfortable for him not to focus on the way it throbs and perceives every slight touch as pleasure, but he just lets it be. Having you close like this, so intimately and intoxicatingly bare for him makes him pine to find new ways of loving you, new ways of worshipping every invisible part of you, even the littles ones that no one else ever noticed, not even yourself. 
«Are we going in?» you puff out on his skin. He nods his head but doesn’t part yet, strokes your hair just once more. 
«I wanna lather you all up» he giggles airily and backs away, beckons you with his head to walk in the shower. Your cheeks are flushed when you take a step towards it with his eyes on you and your body, totally love drunk. He doesn’t look at you with mischief, with something that screams for more though, Jungkook just feels grateful to have this part of you. And when he comes in too you feel your heart beat louder because when you look up at him you see it truly, without even having to try; he loves and burns and drowns and breathes just to do it all over again, with you taking over every part of him. It makes you defenceless, more than you could ever handle. It makes you give up, let your hands fall and just open up to him in every way possible cause the safeness you feel with him, in this little space, right against each other, totally exposed and vulnerable, couldn’t reach you even if you were covered and tucked in the warmest blanket. 
You don’t even realise you’re drenched under the water until his hair stick to his face and he pushes them back to regain his sight, totally entranced when he hugs you under the jet. It’s warm, cozy and it feels like the sweetest place in the world when his fingers dig slightly into your skin and he nuzzles against you. He does it a lot, a habit that he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of. It makes him feel closer even if it’s just for a second, it’s intimate and he likes the feeling of you so much that not doing it almost feels like squandering. 
«Thank you» it’s muffled by the sound of the water and his lips on your skin but it’s enough to reach your ears.
«For what?» you hug him back. Jungkook hums lightly.
«For letting me have this part of you,» he whispers «for trusting me this much»
«You know you’re the person I probably trust the most»
«I know,» his lips lay a mushy kiss on your shoulder «thank you» 
You smile and try to move slightly but with his body towering over yours it’s kind of mocking how you don’t manage to move of an inch.
«Soap,» you call out «come to me!»
And Jungkook is back with his giggles, crystal clear even under the water dropping down and filling up the space. 
«What? Why are you like this?» he snickers.
«You won’t make me move!» you laugh.
«I told you I’ll do it,» he clicks his tongue, still giggly «if you call it do you think it’ll come over?»
«Maybe?» you snort «Who knows?»
«Aish, jinjja» he shakes his head incredulous, his nose scrunching when he parts to look at you.
«Don’t scrunch your nose at me» you point your finger on his chest.
«What- why?» 
«Too cute,» your fingertip taps on his pec for twice or thrice «can’t stay focused»
«Too bad that now I know it?» he beams, pushes a strand of your hair away from your face.
«Aish- don’t use it against me,» you warn «are you gonna lather me or not?»
«Did I told you you’re annoying today?» he scrunches his nose, once more.
«You did,» you nod «I’m used to it»
«Unbelievable» his hand lays with a snack on your asscheek.
«Yah, and you say I’m the one who always slaps you»
«I still didn’t get the chance to kiss it» he munches on his lips, obviously teasing you with the conversation you had while making love for the first time. 
«First you should focus on the bodywash»
He scoffs, gets the bottle from the shelf behind you.
«Okay, now do I get to kiss it?»
«Jungkook!» you literally shriek and he laughs so loud that it becomes all you can hear. You watch his eyes narrow and his head fall back, his shoulders raise and fall and all you want to do is make your annoying best friend shut up and stop being so pestiferous with his teasing but you end up laughing too. Jungkook holds you against him and god, you don’t want to live another life if it doesn’t include this too. 
«I’ll stop-» he laughs «I’m just teasing you»
«I know,» you nod «you do it a lot»
He gains back his composure, closes the jet and squashes the bottle to get the right amount of soap on his hand, putting it down just behind you afterwards. He rubs his hands together a bit, just enough to get some lather. He kneels down. Looks up at you. Smiles. His hands grace over your left thigh, just above your knee.
«Does it bother you?» he coos. You take a deep breath to gather your mental strength.
«Not really» 
«It comes so naturally with you,» he smiles, his hands start to caress your skin with just the right amount of pressure as he rubs the soap in «we’ve always been like this»
«You more than me,» you shrug «it’s normal»
«It is,» he kisses your hip and you feel like you’re going to die for how much you love him «it’s my love language, I guess»
«I think it’s just your language» you scoff. Your hand moves fast and a second later he’s squeezing his eyes and hissing in surprise at your mischief actions, soaked under the jet while you giggle. You close it just a second later, glancing at the way he bites on his lips.
«Its yours too, apparently» he squeezes your thigh, lowers his hands on your calf. 
«Sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault that you’re like this»
«Like this what?» you help yourself on his shoulder, Jungkook beams at you lovingly but his teasing goes on.
«So annoying» he moves on on lathering your foot, the tickly feeling of his fingers makes you wince.
«Oh, yes» you nod.
«I had to survive one way or the other» 
«Kiss?» he puckers his lips.
«Hhm?»
«Kiss, give me a kiss?» he coos all smiley. It makes you scoff, how he can move from one thing to another so quickly. Jungkook lets go of your leg as he’s done with his ministrations and you bend to lower yourself to him, his lips still wrinkled and waiting. It’s wet and just a peck but it makes you see the stars and the ocean all at once, the closeness of it. 
He lathers your other thigh, your knee, your calf, your foot, gets back up to tell you how pretty and beautiful you are, teases you some more. And then he‘s kneeling again and squashing the bottle of the intimate soap, you didn’t even notice him grabbing it from the shelf behind you, with his eyes focused on the task as he rubs his hands together. 
He kisses your hips one at a time, chaste and full affection, his eyes meet yours and when he smiles at you, you know he means something more: «I got you» he blows. 
His arm comes around you, his hand on the lower part of your back and the other one cups your pelvis, soft fingers laying just slightly on your lips. You hold your breath as Jungkook lets his fingers slide against you, they part your lips, move forwards and backwards to soap you up properly, rubbing against your most intimate part with such care and such platonically innocence that you feel your soul dance and smile. You feel loved all over, all inside. And when you smile back at him, gosh, it could sound stupid but he thinks this is one of the moments he’ll live again when he sleeps. When he dreams about you, heart pounding and exploding even with his eyes closed and his light snores breaking the silence of the night.
«You’re so pretty» the fingers on your back tap against your skin, his cheeks are full and his eyes starry. He lays a kiss on your mound just like he did before outside of the shower, all smiley and dovey and you want to squeeze him so hard until he bursts out in nothing but pink stars and dreamy clouds.
«Come back up here» you pat his shoulder. Jungkook nods, but only does so in his own way. He kisses slightly upper above your mound, upper again, again and again and more upwards until he passes your navel and still keeps going, he lays a path that divides you in two parts, split open all the way to the valley between your breasts and then up to the meeting point of your clavicles, to your throat and your chin. It’s intoxicating, you feel totally inebriated.
Your lips were made for him to kiss them, sure as hell they were. So soft, pillowy, consuming, breathtakingly so. It makes him desperate, he can’t help it, helpless and so fucking in love every second more. 
«You make me-» you take in a deep breath before he pecks your lips «feel like…»
«Like what?» he huffs against them, nuzzling his nose to yours.
«Don’t know. Like giving up» you puff. Jungkook snorts, scrunching his nose.
«Giving up?» he hums.
«To… everything,» it’s hard to put it into words «to your… love. Feel so overwhelmed everytime»
«If you do that…» he doesn’t finish his sentence, air running out with you so close.
«If I do that…» you smile. Jungkook breathes in through his mouth.
«I’d look after you,» he pecks your lower lip «please, give up» his tone is low, a little whiny, floaty. 
«Just for once,» his hand cups your cheek, his thumb moves upwards and downwards with the most saccharine motions «I love you so much»
«I’m doing it already,» you scoff to yourself «I do it every time. I forged up all of that because I don’t have defences around you. I’m always giving up, you’re too-» you gag on your air silently, shaking your head and trying to regain what’s left of you «inebriating»
«Let it consume you then,» he kisses your forehead «cause I can’t stop. Can’t fucking stop, it’s too much. I love you too much, I want you to feel it,» he pushes you closer to him until his chest is tight against you and his eyes still fixed into yours «cause I feel it from you. And it takes over me. You love me so good, in every possible way»
He reaches your hand and his slender fingers interlock with yours to guide your palm on his chest, just a few inches on the left from the middle. He leaves your hold just to push your palm on his skin; his heart beats under you, loud but melodious, steady and proud.
«That’s what you do to me,» he keeps his touch on your hand, fingers stroking your wrist «that’s what you’ve been doing for all these years. Not a second- there was not a second that it didn’t beat for you»
Your world spins. Even as he kisses the crown of your head sweetly and hugs you for a minute more, even when he goes back to lather the rest of you up, your hair, your word spins. You want him forever. You want him in every way, every day. You want him after a long day and on a relaxing one, on a beach somewhere lost in the world and welcoming you home, you just- can’t control it. It’s so powerful and so deep and so incredibly real and intimate that you feel grounded to earth but high flying in the sky. This is what love is. Love is Jungkook. 
He opens the jet again after lathering himself up, his hair are covered in bubbles and his cheeks full make him look like the happiest he’s ever been, eyes glittering with shining stars. He lets his hands caress you to help the water wash away the soap, lays love over every part of your body with the touch of his palm and his fingertips, kisses you when you smile and it’s too much to control himself, nuzzles his nose on you, the water spraying over your bodies and his arms caging you in. For the first time, you feel it more real, even more than before; how somewhere in a different universe you’re holding each other in the same way, older and with even more memories than what you have now. Wrinkles on his skin and hair grey but your love is still the same, still consuming and taking over the both of you. 
«Koo» you hide in his neck. 
«Love» he hums. He feels your smile on his skin.
«I want…» you curl your fingers to stroke his hips. Jungkook levels your sight with his, two of his fingers push your chin up.
«I know that we said- this isn’t heading to anything else but… I want you to make love to me» 
«Now?»
«Now,» you nod «but…»
«What?» his hand strokes your back, your cheeks flushed make him hug you tighter to show you how comfortable you can be with him. 
«Rough,» you scoff at yourself, making him giggle and raise his palm to the back of your head to stroke your nape «fuck this, I’m not good with words»
«You’re doing amazing, sweetie» he shakes his head amused «talk to me?»
You shoulders raise, chest swells as you breath in: «I want you to… the stuff you said before, do that»
Jungkook laughs at your ways, keeps your figure safe in the cage of his arms as he scrunches his nose.
«You want me to fuck you?» 
«Don’t laugh» you scold.
«I’m sorry,» he smiles «it’s just- you’re so endearing when you’re shy» 
«Koo» you whine. He kisses your neck, nods.
«You want that?» he asks, his attention totally on your face. He takes in your expression, sees universes in your eyes.
«Yes,» you pause «show me that there’s more even though I know it already» 
Clear and straight to the point. Fuck, he may explode from a second to another. 
«Rough?» he breathes. Your heart is pounding in your ears so much that the thrill makes your knees feel like jelly. 
«Rough,» you repeat «however you want it. I- want to just…» your sentence ends in silence, closing your eyes to the caresses of his fingers.
«Are you sure?» 
«I am» 
«Turn around,» he kisses your lips with tenderness but his tone is firm and your body feels so light you don’t even feel it as you do as he asks «bend down a little and put your hands against the wall»
Shit. It’s all you can think about as your chest lays on the marble. The coldness of the material makes you shiver as your hands follow, taking half a step backwards to bend for him. Jungkook stays still, totally entranced by you. Fuck, you make him crazy. Totally whipped. His head is whirling, his eyes are lost on the side view of your face and how beautiful you are with your skin glowing under the light of the bathroom, drops of water running down every inch of your body, the curve of your hips, the tenderness of your skin. God’s sake, you’re the end of him. 
«Koo» you call. He shakes his head, takes a step forward. 
«Sorry, got a little distracted» he hums against your ear, kissing your earlobe. 
«You’re so beautiful» his breath hits your neck and the air makes you shiver, he feels you moving just the slightest, your face disconnecting from the wall. 
«What are you going to do?» your tone makes him smile, curious but frail. 
His lips reach the side of your neck and they disclose a wet kiss and then another one, one more. His chest adheres to your back, the underside of his cock brushing against your asscheek makes you writhe in your spot, he’s been so hard for so long and feeling him like this makes you hold your breath, but Jungkook doesn’t lose his calm. He keeps his sight on your face, his focus on you. His arms come around you, hands cupping your stomach and fingers opening to feel your skin, they stroke and caress you just right, his touch his light but secure and it is rewarded by you squirms and shivers, he makes you want to beg for more. He travels from your navel to between your breasts, then down again. One of his hands steadies on your left hip, the digits of his other one tickle you until he stops on your mound and your breath gets cut. 
«Keep your hands on the wall» he whispers. You don’t even have time to realise what he’s saying because his fingers lower and they slide between your lips and you’re laying your head forward against the wall just at his touch. 
«I want you to let go,» he kisses your skin, licks a patch of it from just right under your head to your shoulder «and just feel good» 
His index finds your core, already wet for him. His cock twitches on you, you feel it move against your back as he gathers your wetness and moves on your clit, feather-like touch that makes you eager and yearn. 
«Can you do that for me?» he huffs. 
Your trembling breath is his answer. His finger moves on the pearl and your legs instantly squeeze around his hand at the sudden pleasure brought, his petals gifting sweet pecks on your shoulder. They make you relax your muscles and open your thighs again, his movement slow and just where you like it the most.
It lasts just for a bunch of seconds though, the air feels cold again when he parts and you close your eyes when you catch him kneeling down on the floor of the shower.
«Oh, fuck» you hiss in advance.
«You’re- I’m gonna die» your words make him laugh.
«Please don’t,» he giggles looking up at you, hands grasping the back of your thighs «just tell me if it’s too much?»
«Too much what?» 
«Anything» he kisses the lower part of your back, eyes glued to your face. His nose brushes against your skin as he lowers himself and his hands move upwards, they burn your skin even when it’s still wet, he parts your asscheeks for his sight only.
Shit, Jungkook is about to lose his mind. Too pretty. 
«Bend forwards just a little more for me?» he coos. When you do as he says, he’s able to get a better view of your pussy too and for god’s sake, he’s salivating just like she is. So wet, so freaking wet he wants to bury himself between your thighs and never face the world again. 
«Fuck, baby. Did I do that?» he hisses through his teeth, lowering his hand to part your lips better with his fingers.
«Do I make you this wet?»
«Kook…» you let out a deep breath, on the edge of your calm.
«Tell me» he moves his finger on your clit, looking back up at you. The way your mouth opens makes him move it again in the same manner, your eyebrows furrowing. 
«Tell me» he echoes. You lay your forehead against the marble.
«You do,» you whine «you make it so fucking wet, Jungkook»
«Fuck, I love when you talk to me» 
You think you’re already on the edge because fucking freaking hell, his tongue suddenly pokes your clit and your legs shake and shit- it feels incredible. He moves his head to accompany his motions, mouth open as he flicks the muscles on your clit, the perfect pressure to make you see stars. He moans against you, face buried in your pussy and his nose poking at your entrance, hands splayed on the underside of your asscheeks to help himself keeping you open for him. 
«My god- Jungkook»
«You like it?» he groans against your core, gathering your wetness on his tongue. It’s so sweet, so addicting.
«Fuck, yes» you nod.
«I love it,» he moves back on your clit, moans on it with his mouth full of your juices, too in love with your little pearl and how good it can make you feel «it’s perfect»
And he’s back at licking it again with the tip of his tongue, focused on the spot you like the most and then from time to time putting pressure with more of the muscle, setting on fire every nerve of the zone. You hold your breath, your chest is swelling in pleasure and your legs are already trembling. 
«Wanna do something» his lips brush on your pussy as he speaks, he doesn’t even dare to part from it.
«What?» you don’t know if you can take whatever it is that it’s running through his mind.
«Not yet,» he kisses your clit, making you whine for him «just relax for now»
«Shit, how am I supposed to- fucking hell, Jungkook» you moan out loud, his tongue sliding through your entrance feels so good. So wet and soft but firm, straight and pointed to push all your buttons right. 
«I love you» he can’t help himself. After all, he guesses that this is what you wanted him to do, show you how much he loves you even while he has his tongue deep inside your pussy.
«Love your pussy too, so much baby» he parts a little to take a look at the mess he’s reduced you to, dripping wet all over and glistening. A finger strokes your clit as he gets back to your hole, tongue sliding inside you so easily, he bobs his head up and down to fuck it inside you, his pace getting faster. You just keep your eyes shut, feeling the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his breath hits your skin every time he moves, the pleasure consuming. 
«Kook, I think I’m- going to cum» it’s already approaching you, it’s been since the moment his tongue poked at your clit and you don’t know how much you will be able to hold yourself back. Your body feels oversensitive, every touch and lick makes your nerves jump.
«You can,» he breathes against you, your legs tightening «wanna make you cum again afterwards» 
Fuck, it’s too much. His words are too much, so fucking hot. 
«Oh- god» you whine and Jungkook loves it. He loves it so much, he loves you so much. To have you like this makes him yearn for more and more, he wants it all. He wants you to give yourself to him and let him take care of you in the sweetest and sexiest way possible, fuck you rough and tell you how much he loves you at the same time, make love to you in every possible way. 
«You don’t know- shit, I don’t think you know the hold you have on me» he groans, speaks as he thrusts inside you, his words are muffled as the sound of your wetness takes over the bathroom. His finger works on your clit and you know that you’re too close to resist more.
«Tell me» you don’t even know what it is that makes you speak, your mouth moves on its own. Jungkook circles his tongue inside you, he curls it just a bit more and you squeeze your eyes as his moan in your pussy echoes in the bathroom. Fuck, you love it so much, so freaking much.
He slides the muscle out while sucking at the entrance of your hole, drinking your juices and growling against you in the sexiest way possible. Two of his fingers enter you, filling you up and replacing his tongue they fuck you so good that you don’t even know how to breathe anymore.
«You make me desperate,» he hisses, rubbing his digit on your clit and adding a bit more pressure «in every way possible. Want you every fucking day, every second cause I’m addicted. Sexually or not, baby»
«Koo, I…»
«I know,» he kisses your skin «cum for me»
«No- I- I love you» your voice breaks, too weary. Jungkook’s heart throbs in his chest, he wishes he could see your features now but to make you turn now would be too mischievous, so he just focuses on making you cum. His lips kiss your back, he raises himself up while he still moves inside you, leaving a path of wet kisses on every inch of skin he manages to reach.
«I love you too, angel» 
He nuzzles his nose on your back, the gesture totally far away from his next words: «Soak my fingers, wanna lick your juices»
Fuck, the room spins, you feel like levitating. Your high hits you so hard that you don’t feel your legs anymore, they tremble and you shiver and Jungkook parts his finger from your clit to wrap his arm around your front, digits digging in your flesh to keep you balanced as he still fucks into you to prolong your orgasm. He kisses your back, breathes you in, loves you more than a second ago if it’s even possible.
The feelings in your chest are long lasting, more than your climax. They fill you up even more when you come down and you notice his uneven breath against you as he holds you steady, safe from anything else that isn’t him. Jungkook kisses your skin endlessly, writes love with his lips until you’re even more drenched than you were under the jet, so much that you feel it deep inside every single bone of your body.
«Come here» he coos, looking up at you even when you still have your head against the marble. You breathe in, turn around to face him. Knees still on the floor, hair wet and lips glistening with your juices, a bit of them on his nose, eyes sweet and starry just like always. You want to laugh because how the hell are you supposed to sit on the floor of the shower when there’s him already, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to breathe and a second later you’re kneeling down and trying your best to sit, however his hand on your hips pushes you slightly to make you turn again. Jungkook opens his legs and bends them at your sides to save just a bit more space, you sit in front of him  and he guides your back on his chest. His cock pushes against your skin but the touch of his fingers on your cheek make your attention shift to his face, close and so beautiful it looks unreal. 
His lips connect with yours, soft and pillowy, and your mind fills up with a pinkish haze that seems to escape just to surround you with intimacy and coziness, his arm coming around you to feel just a bit more of your skin.
«What was it that you wanted to do?» you mumble against him, keeping your face turned to face him. Jungkook clicks his tongue, smiling with mischief.
«Later,» he pecks you again «if you want to»
«I want to,» you huff faking annoyance «I told you to fuck me but-»
«Aish, so greedy. Can’t I spoil you a little?» he shakes his head, bringing the fingers of the arm that’s wrapped around you in front of his face. They’re still wet with your juices, you expect him to lick them but what he does makes your breath stop and your pussy starts throbbing again. They stroke your lips and his eyes stay focused on his motions as he makes them glisten like a lipgloss, a cheeky smile taking over his features when he notices the way you’re looking at him.
«Wanna taste them from your lips» he murmurs. You let out a staggered breath, totally lost in him and the way he makes your mind go blank. Jungkook kisses you again, pecks your lips more than once, licks the bottom one to get every drop of your sweetness. You hate him for being like this because your pussy is soaked again and you don’t even know why the hell you find it so hot but it’s just- Jungkook. And fuck, he makes you weak. 
«I think I want to find out that thing» you breathe when he parts, his giggles resonate in the room as he cages you with his other arm too, stroking your stomach as you let your head fall on his shoulder. 
«Please?»
He taps his fingers on your navel, kissing your cheek.
«Aish, so cute,» he giggles happily «you’re exactly my type, you know that?»
«What does that even mean?» you laugh at his childish tone, shaking your head as you watch him munch on his lips.
«You have a type?»
«What? You! You’re-» he points his forefinger on your chest «you are»
«Why?» you coo teasingly, grabbing his finger in your hold and pushing his other arm down at your side. Jungkook watches you get up, turning around to look down at him. The view makes him gulp, his heart flutters at your beauty when you reach your hand out to him to make him stand. He takes it just for the sake of holding it, getting up on his own by pushing on the ball of his feet and his hand on the floor. When he towers over you his eyes are shining again and his bunny teeth on display as he beams brightly.
«Cause I love you,» he murmurs «you-» he snorts through his mouth, pushing the air out and making a nasal noise just like you would do when describing the sound of something exploding «ah, forget it»
You’re coming out of the shower, pushing the door open and he stands there totally entranced. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was probably just enjoying the view. But Jungkook is… totally lost. When you face him you know it well, that look in his eyes. 
«I want to know» you push your words, getting closer to where he stands but without going in again. 
«I don’t have a type, I guess» he scrunches his nose, it makes you want to laugh, totally meaningless «cause you’re- you are the type. Like- aish, what am I even saying?»
Your laughter fills up his ears and your arms wrap around his torso, you let your head fall on his chest. His fingers come to stroke your hair, eyes half lidded as he giggles in that sweet way that makes your stomach twist and turn.
«I’m the type» you laugh.
«Don’t make fun of me, it’s just- you know what I mean. It’s not about just one thing, it’s like- everything»
«Okay, baby,» you shake your head «now come out» 
You grab two towels each, wrapping yourself up and your hair too, Jungkook does the same with his towel but just rubs his hair with the other one. 
«Do you remember when we went to Disneyland?» he suddenly stops his motions, leaving the wet cloth on the sink as you wear your slippers. You nod at him through the reflection of the mirror, Jungkook clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth.
«Wanna go again»
«So suddenly?» you smile. 
He nods: «Can we go another time?»
«Next weekend?» you raise your eyebrows at him, thrilled by the thought. Jungkook’s mouth opens wide, stuck in place as he watches you point at his slippers. 
«What- next weekend?» he echoes, the shadow of a smile taking over his feature as he does as he’s told. You grab his hand and walk towards the door. 
«Hhm, we could? If you want to»
Disneyland sounds beautiful, indeed. You visited three years ago, spent three days laughing like two idiots and going on rollercoasters. You guess it couldn’t hurt at all to visit again. Jungkook feels drunk from the feeling already, having you all to himself for a weekend in a way that he never thought was possible years ago.
«Let’s go next weekend»
He stops in place, eyes wide and lips open.
«Really?»
«Why not?» you shrug.
«Are we getting the tickets now?»
«We’re really going?» he’s beaming so bright that the sun seems like a distant glow in comparison.
«Yes, we’re going. We could leave on Friday night?» you nod.
«Why- you’re sure? I was afraid to ask, I thought you’d say no» he’s totally surprised. Your hand pulls him as you start walking again towards his bedroom, Jungkook watches your eyebrows raise in question when you end your walk in front of his bed. 
«Why?» 
«I- thought you wouldn’t feel comfortable with it yet- since-»
«I told you,» you smile sweetly at him «I don’t want to restrain myself anymore. There’s no point in it, we know what we have, it’s not too soon cause I already-» you scoff, «I love you. And… I want to go» 
His expression makes your heart pound louder. Cheeks full, dark doe, big eyes glittery with thrill and love, pinkish lips open in a smile and bunny teeth showing, totally thrilled.
«Woah, this-» he bounces a little in place, totally excited «we need to get the tickets» 
«You wanna buy them now?» you giggle at his cuteness, pecking his cheek. Jungkook shakes his head, wraps his arms around you.
«Do you want to buy them now?» he gives you smooches on your forehead. You let one of your hands wrap around his neck and the other one lock around him, just under his shoulder your fingers tickle his skin as you look up at him.
«Later,» your hum has mischief in it «now I want what I asked for earlier» 
«What was it?» god, how he likes to tease you, and the way he licks his lips with a smirk that only makes you churn.
«You know what it was» you huff. Jungkook shakes his head slowly.
«Say it?» he breathes low against you.
«Wanna hear you ask for it» 
«Want you to fuck me,» you let all your inhibitions fall to the ground «rough and sweet at the same time»
«Fuck, get on the bed» his cock is already throbbing and twitching against the cloth, too hard and too weary to hold back from before and hearing your pleads just made it hungrier. 
«You make me lose it,» he watches you as you let your wet hair fall over your shoulders, the towel gets thrown on the floor and a second later you’re naked and sitting on the edge and his mind doesn’t function when you look at him like this «you want it rough? Want me to fuck you while a sweet talk you? Is that what you want?»
Shit, holy shit, yes. Totally. You can’t even answer him, too entranced by the view of him taking the fabric off and letting it fall on the ground, his eyes burning with fire and ready to devour you. 
«Lay down,» he wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping it a few times and making your pussy pulsate around nothing «slide back, get comfortable on the pillows»
You do as he says, body running only with the thrill in your veins. Your eyes lower back on his cock, red and hard, standing eager on his stomach it makes you salivate and wish to wrap your lips around it but Jungkook doesn’t have the same thought in mind. He knees on the bed, looks at your face.
«Open your legs,» he orders, tone firm «open your fucking legs» 
You don’t know if you’re ready for what’s to come. Your thighs open, feet digging into the soft mattress, his eyes ravenous. He licks his lips and strokes the head of his cock with his thumb, lets out a low groan; «That’s it»
You don’t even have time to realise what he’s doing, because a second later he’s already laying down and sucking on your clit and your eyes roll back in your head for how good it feels. The sound of him stroking his cock sends you spiralling, his soft mouth sucking and wrapping around your pearl sends every nerve on fire. 
«Fucking good pussy,» he breathes letting go of your clit, licking a strap over it «wanna make it squirt»
«Fuck, Jungkook» his words are pure sin, and your body wants it all.
«You like that? Like hearing that?» he kisses the bead so softly that you feel your breath getting stuck.
«I love her so much,» he sucks it again, hard and totally merciless «wanna make her cum so hard, baby. Want you to feel so good» his voice is muffled, he speaks when he lets go of you but doesn’t part enough for your clit not to perceive the brush of his lips as pleasure.
He lets go of his cock to push his finger inside you, filling you up and making you squirm on the bed. Jungkook clicks his tongue and kisses your clit again.
«Can she do that?» he arches his finger inside you, hitting your g-spot perfectly as he flicks his tongue over your clit. The pace is fast, it makes your pussy throb with sensitivity and your juices drip out of your hole, his knuckles are totally wet with them. Jungkook’s cock is throbbing, twitching in desperation, precum leaking out in need.
«Can you do that for me, love?» the last word makes your insides burn, his eyes travelling to your face just in time to see your lips open in a silent moan.
«Don’t- know» you let out, fisting the sheets. Jungkook blows on your clit and he feels your walls contract around his finger, so fucking soft and tight that he wants to bury his cock inside you and never come out. 
He pushes a second finger in, fucking inside you and watching your expression totally lost as he sucks your clit again, his lips tight around it. He moans on it, watches your thighs tremble at his sides and lets go again, consuming you and your mind, taking over totally. The way he clicks the underside of his tongue on your pearl makes you moan loud and he licks all the way down from it to your core, opens his lips as much as he can to take every part of you in his mouth, his teeth lightly brush against you and your hips raise involuntarily on the bed, pushing against his face. He moans on you, balls hard and cock oversensitive even with the smallest change of air, slurps at your juices as he sucks them through your entrance and lingers in the sweetness of them, so fucking saccharine and creamy. He wants you to explode, let go. 
«Never enough,» he licks back up from your pussy to your clit, flicking his tongue on the spot that makes you lose your mind, fingers pushing buttons inside of you that make your vision blurry «love you so much baby, push your pussy on my face» 
«Koo, I…»
«Push it all over me,» he growls on your clit, curls his fingers inside you «want your juices all over me, I love them so much»
You don’t hold yourself back anymore, do as he says. Your hips push up again, your hand goes to his hair and Jungkook sucks your clit again and again and again and you think you’re about to break cause it’s too fucking much. 
«Wanna make you cum» he moans as he dives as deep as he can into you, both with his fingers and with his tongue on your clit. The pressure added makes your head dig in the pillow, a breathy moan escaping your lips.
«Again and again, and again. Until you can’t take anymore cause it’s too much. Wanna fuck you and tell you how fucking much I love you and see you cum all over my fucking cock. Shit, you make me desperate»   
It’s sudden and it tears you apart and it stings a little but feels so fucking good that your body shakes and you don’t breathe anymore, because he bites your clit just enough and you can’t help it. You tremble and shiver, eyes shut and lips wide open, your hair wetting the pillow and your mind blank as the pleasure becomes too much and you let go. Jungkook licks your juices, slurps on them, dries your pussy of every drop, gulps them down as if it was the sweetest syrup in the world, his eyes on your face admiring how fucking beautiful you are when you cum, all for him and him only. His tongue on you feels so soft, his lips kiss and brush against every inch of your center and Jungkook can’t help but push the tip of his wet muscle inside you, making you shiver.
«Koo» you whine. He smiles against you, pushing it deeper and you writhe on the bed, too sensitive and overwhelmed. His fingers push on your hips, keeping you in place and against his lips.
«Is she sensitive?» he pecks your inner thigh, looking up at you. You nod out of breath, eyes locking with his.
«Wanna make you cum again,» he huffs «can she take it for me?»
«Jungkook, I- sensitive» you whine as he pecks your mound, lowering on your clit with a lick of his tongue on your skin. He blows on it, watching you squirm once more and whine.
«Poor baby» he kisses the pearl decadently.
«Oh, fuck» your hand fists his hair, tugging at the roots, Jungkook kisses it again, he opens his mouth slightly and lets the inner wet part of his lower lip add pressure as he slowly moves up to slide his lips on you. 
«You like it when I kiss your clit?» his hand travels up to your abdomen, it passes your hips and your tummy, fingers sprayed as he grasps your left breast and squeezes it slightly.
You nod at him, your pussy is pulsating and it’s so wet and sensitive that you can’t speak properly. He kisses it again, loud and sultry, again and again and again until you lose count and your walls are crumping up again, the pleasure too much to handle. 
«Look at me,» he coos tenderly «let me see your pretty face»
You open your eyes, look down at him from the pillow that it’s soaked with the water in your hair. Jungkook’s thumb strokes your nipple, slow and gentle it makes your leg open for him even more and he has to hold back from reaching down to stroke his cock again. 
«Can you cum again for me, baby? Wanna give you so much more,» he flicks his tongue over your clit, making you hiss «wanna fuck you so good, want you to feel me for the whole day tomorrow»
His words make your pussy clench around nothing and all you can do is let go and feel the pleasure build up, picturing his cock inside you and thrilled to have him fuck you in the same way he’s been doing with his lips. The thought is too alluring and when he kisses your clit again your mind goes blank and all you can feel it’s your pearl pulsating desperate and his slurpy kisses sending you in a haze. They’re endless, Jungkook kisses your pussy and your legs are trembling again, weary and too sensitive to last any longer. You moan silently, dig your head in the pillows, feel his lips all over you even as you cum again. His hand caresses your tummy, providing comfort as your body goes limp on the bed, lips pecking your inner thighs and your mound, your knees, your tummy, his hand locking around yours. The way you look, shit, it’s ethereal. He doesn’t think he ever witnessed such a beautiful masterpiece, you should be worshipped and represented in every frame, hung in museums, have buildings built with your name. There has to be somewhere, a distant, alternative universe maybe, where you’re a princess of a flourishing land or the goddess of the universe, there has to be. 
«I love you so much,» he’s helpless, eyes fixated on you «I wanna keep you in my pocket and cuddle you every night. Wanna shelter you from the world»
«Come here, please» you squeeze his hand,  Jungkook lays down on you without having you to ask twice. His cock is rock hard, poking at your tummy and leaking precum from the tip but he’s so fucking in love with you that all he can do is snuggle his face in the crook of your neck and wrap one of his arms around you, the other helping him up not to weight down on you.
«I think you broke me» you groan tired, eyes shut as you feel him giggle and hide more into you.
«You asked for it» he mumbles.
«I didn’t ask for three orgasms» you scoff at him, arms wrapping around him. His chest is firm against you, his back broad and your fingers can’t help but wander and caress it up and down, he shivers on top of you.
«You- you’re so annoying» he groans.
«Aish, here we go again,» you laugh at him, stroking his wet hair with your other hand
«thank you for making me cum three times» you kiss his neck. Jungkook smiles against you, he closes his eyes and takes in your sweet scent.
«That’s better,» he kisses your skin «was it too much? Maybe I shouldn’t ha-»
«I loved it,» you shake your head eagerly, slightly tugging at the strands to make him look at you «every single one of it»
He scrunches his nose, a bright beam taking over his face.
«I’m just teasing you,» you stroke his back «I love when you make me cum with your lips» it comes out low and almost like a whisper and he can see your cheeks reddening, but his heart flutters and all he wants to do is kiss you until the world explodes.
«Yeah?» he coos sweetly, hushed and airy. You nod, eyes lowering on his lips.
«Yes,» you smile «that thing you did- when you bit me…»
He licks his lips and boops his nose to yours. 
«Did it feel good?» he asks under his breath. The way he checks in with you every time makes you feel so cherished and it’s like he’s embracing you in a tight warm blanket, totally safe and cared for.
«A lot,» you nod «felt so good, love»
«I wanted to try that» his lips brush against yours when he speaks. You smile at him, pushing your face up just enough to make your lips lock together, his moan is sweet as your tongue enters his mouth. His fingers caress your hip, your shoulder, his hand cups your head as you lay back down and he lowers himself to keep contact, your soft petals and the way you give yourself to him makes his chest swell with happiness and vulnerability every time, how you smile against him, kiss him some more. His cock twitches and you giggle under his lips, Jungkook pecking your lower one with all the love he has inside him.
«Wanna make you cum» you whisper when he parts a little, lashes fluttering at the sound of your voice.
«Wanna cum inside you,» he lets out, hand cupping your cheek «but I can just-»
«I want you inside me,» you cut him off, already knowing where his brain is taking him «don’t care if I’m sensitive. Wanna feel you»
He munches on his lips, cheeks a little swollen as he mulls it over: «Are you sure?»
«I’m sure, Koo. Please, fuck me?» you huff looking up at him, his eyebrows raise at your unceremonious words. You peck his lips and lift your hips up knowing well that he’s still not sure about it. His cock jerks and Jungkook lets out a strangled moan, closing his eyes shut. 
«Fuck, can’t say no when you tease me like this» he breathes through his mouth. You grin, his eyes open to look straight down at you.
«Good, cause I’ve waited quite a while» you tease. He scoffs on your face, his hand moves away from your skin just so he can slap your thigh but it only makes you grin more.
«Open your legs» he smiles at your attitude, shaking his head slightly in disdain but his pupils are sparkling and he’s so cute right now that you want to kiss him dumb. However, you do as he says, your movements are quick and your pussy is still throbbing from your last orgasm. 
Jungkook parts just a little, he grabs the length of his cock and strokes it once or twice, it cuts your breath off just to look down at his motions; his big and slender hand, beautiful fingers, the girth of his cock and the precum leaking from its head, red and needy.
«I wanna try something sometime» you let out totally entranced, he guides his cock to your pussy, sliding it into your folds. The sensation makes him bite on his lips with his eyes squeezed shut, a needy whine escaping his lips. 
«Ngh- what?» he looks down at you.
«Gonna tell you when you’re inside me» you tease him, making him scoff. He lifts his hips slightly, takes his cock away from your lips. 
«You’re such a brat» his hand lays on you clit, slapping it just enough to make you moan out loud. Your eyes widen in shock, he grins and kisses your cheek and you don’t know if you should be dripping with arousal or dig a hole into the ground and giggle for his cuteness and the way he makes you heart flutter with just a loving peck. 
Jungkook lowers himself back again, he wraps his hand around his shaft to guide it back to where it was and slides it between your folds, it’s so wet that the underside of his cock is soaked with your juices and all he wants to do is feel them on his tongue again. Your clit is oversensitive and the weight of his cock on you only makes it worse, your hand is already gripping the sheets.
He slides his length up and down as he admires the way your eyelashes flutter and the red shade of your lips, your pretty nose, the shape of your eyes. He loves you so much, so freaking much it’s hard to handle it, it’s thought to even just breathe through it. 
«Love, look at me?» he coos. Just a word and you’re melting in a puddle, breath staggered. He’s so beautiful, so ethereal. He slides his cock down to your entrance, pokes at it with the head. 
«I love you» you whisper. Jungkook smiles, his cock pushes inside you and even though he halts his hips to get you used to the feeling your hands come down on his ass and you push him deeper, making him groan under his breath and close his eyes at the feeling. Tight, close, so fucking wet that his cock is already soaked, so soft. His lips are open, eyebrows furrowed and you don’t know if you want him to go rough on you anymore cause your arms are dying to feel him close and your heart is pounding and throbbing for his love and his affection. He’s so beautiful, so beautiful it tears you apart in the most saccharine way, you love him so much. 
«Say it back, please» you breathe. 
Jungkook lays his head on your chest, the movement is slow and his breath is staggered, he looks up at you. Some strands of his hair come in the way of his eyes, a drop of water dripping down from one of them and caressing his cheekbone as it travels down. Your eyes are sparkling, lost in a haze, lips open just slightly.
«I love you,» he kisses your clavicle «I’m- don’t even know if that’s enough cause- it doesn’t hold half of the meaning of what I feel for you» his nose brushes against your neck as he hovers over you.
«But I love you, so much. So freaking much, baby»
«Please, move» you breath low.
«Wanna feel you» 
«Like this?» he brings his hips back, his cock slides against your walls perfectly, it rubs over every nerve, and then he pushes back in, slow and maddening he stretches you out in the best way possible as your legs move around his hips to cage him into you, his low moan resonating in your ear. 
«Shit, yes» you nod. Jungkook kisses your neck, his hand reaches yours and locks around it, thumb caressing the back as he pulls back out just to hit your spot again. 
«You’re perfect,» he licks his lips looking down at you «so perfect. Tell me you’re mine»
«I’m yours,» the way he groans at your words makes your pussy clench around him and he throws his head down on your chest at the sensation «only yours, all yours»
«Fuck, say it again» he rests there with his hand pushing yours down on the bed as he moves inside you, his pace fastening.
«Yours, Jungkook. All- every part of me» you moan. He feels so good, so perfect. His cock makes you helpless, he makes you helpless. Just a look, a blink of his eyes and you would do the worst, the absolute worst for him even though you know that he would never ask. You can’t help it, you’re so fucking in love with him that you can’t see straight and the world finally makes sense cause he’s in it and all over you. 
«Fuck, yes,» he kisses your chest, hovers over your face again «want a whole life with you»
God, your heart is bursting. He makes you want to stay all day in his arms and only live by his warmth, look at the stars in the sky just to compare them to the ones sparkling in his dark eyes. 
«Please, yes» you whine as he hits your g-spot, eyes deep in his «want you every day, Kook. Wanna wake up to your face every fucking day»
«Yeah?» he’s losing his mind, and you can see it clearly. Trying to hold himself back, licking his lips as he stares down at yours and your eyes, fucking himself so deep into you that it’s driving him insane. The sounds that come from your wetness make your cheeks red, all the orgasms you had before and still you’re still hungry for more, for him.
«Yes» you nod eager. He moans out loud, you feel his cock throb inside you and leak precum that mixes with your juices. It’s absolute filth but it feels so intimate that it makes your head spin and your heart clench. 
«Can do that,» he kisses your lips «I absolutely can do that. Please don’t change your mind» he sounds like begging and you can’t help but wrap tighter around him.
«Not gonna» you huff. The moment he smiles at you, shit you know you can’t go back anymore. It feels so good, so sweet but so consuming and he’s yours, his smile is. The way his eyes sparkle when he looks at you, the sound of his breath too overwhelmed by you, his hand  squeezing yours, all yours. 
Jungkook can’t get used to this, he doesn’t think he ever could. Every time he makes love to you, every time you give yourself to him his body lights up, his soul grows a size more just to get as much of you as it can. Seeing you under him in his bed, with your hair wetting the sheets, your body naked for him, your vulnerability in his hands that promise to worship every inch of it and comfort it with everything he can, your cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes starry and almost shut for the pleasure he’s making you feel… he knows he will never get used to this. Not even in another life, at the last one of them all.
«Wish I could take a picture of you right now,» he fans over your lips «so pretty. So beautiful, I love it. Love you, love your pussy, love how you give yourself to me»
«Shit, feels so good» your hands cups his head, bringing him for a sloppy kiss, passionate and lost as his hips keep meeting yours. Jungkook doesn’t know how long he will be able to hold himself back, cause his cock is twitching and his balls are already tight. He was having a hard time even when he was making you cum, every time felt like a torture to his throbbing and heavy dick on his stomach.
«Shit, baby I’m sorry- I don’t know if I can give you what you want- nngh, it feels too good to have you like this» he whines in your ear, kisses your neck endlessly. His hand leaves yours to cup your breast, fingers sprayed and digging into your skin, your pussy clenching. The thought seems far away now, you can’t let go of having him like this, ruining you slowly.
«It’s okay, like this is perfect» you puff out a breath, Jungkook pushes a little harder inside you and suddenly your body is on the edge, eyes squeezed shut. 
«You’re going to cum?» he hides himself deeper into you, keeps hitting your spot faster but doesn’t dare to pull out cause seeing you like this sends his mind in a haze. For god’s sake, he’d spend all night long like this. Making you cum undone, over and over again until you soak his sheets with your juices and your lips are so swollen that they hurt. His cock rubs against you perfectly, hips moving faster and faster as his groans fill the room, he just pulls himself back enough to meet your spot again without losing it, giving your sensitive pussy what she’s been begging for by engulfing his length so deliciously.
«Gonna cum» you nod. Jungkook bites his lips, teeth digging into the red flash, pupils fixated on your face as you let out a moan.
«Love watching you cum,» his hand strokes your cheek «let go, love. Do it for me, baby»
Your mind goes blank once more, your lungs are on fire as you try to breathe properly but can’t, pussy pulsating desperately and extremely sensitive. He pecks your lips and shit, the gesture has your heart clenching and it makes you cry out loud because it’s too much freaking pleasure and sweetness and you just- it overwhelms you. Totally and wholly, your legs shake in spasms, you hear Jungkook swear and moan but it’s too far away and your ears are not working well, you can’t feel your body anymore, it’s like you don’t have control over it. Jungkook watches you entranced, he digs his head in the crook of your neck and stops his motions even though he was about to cum just to hold your shaking body and provide comfort with his hold, kisses every inch of skin he finds. Your breath in his ear is heavy, your eyes closed and lips apart, and he feels himself growing desperate, not to cum but to reassure you in the gentlest way possible and provide comfort to every part of you. He kisses your cheek more than a few times  loudly and silently, lays his forehead against yours and pecks the tip on your nose, snuggles against it with his, he keeps his arms wrapped around you and his cock still buried in your pulsating core.
«Fuck- Jungkook» you let out a low whine with your eyes closed. Jungkook giggles and lays a smooch on your cheek again.
«You- you don’t know how fucking sexy that was» you open your eyes, your vision is a little blurry.
«I- you made me cum so hard» you hug him back but feel him still rock hard inside you and filling you up totally.
«You… why did you stop? You didn’t cum»
He raises his eyebrows and pecks your temple. His thumb strokes your cheek: «Didn’t wanna overstimulate you more,» he squeezes you tighter «you squirted all over me»
«I- what?» your eyes widen as your lips hang down. Jungkook smiles and nods looking down at you.
«Did you ever do that?» he coos gentle, voice low almost like a whisper. 
You shake your head: «Never, are you sure I- really?»
He giggles at your tone, parts by pushing on his arms with his length still inside you. The whole expanse of his abdomen gets shown, muscles rippling and his brownish nipples standing, the v line that guide to his cock… wet.
«Oh, fuck,» you pull him down by pushing him from behind his back «I didn’t think I could do that. Shit, it’s so embarrassing but-»
«It was sexy as hell, baby,» he shakes his head to make your brain stop overthinking it «just to think about it makes- thinking that you felt so good that you couldn’t hold it back- ngh, makes me wanna make you do it again» 
«Don’t get used to it,» you huff on his lips, shaking your head but smiling shyly «it never happened» 
He pecks your lips.
«I promise I won’t,» he beams «how do you feel?»
The smile that takes over your features makes his heart throb. You couldn’t wrap your head around it if you knew how much he loves you. Asking you how you’re feeling after making you cum so hard when he’s still rock hard and needy inside you, just this makes your chest hurt.
«Good, baby. I feel good,» you bring your hand on his face to caress his cheek and travel your finger on his temple, they push a strand of hair away from his sight «wanna make you cum» you squeeze your walls around him even though you’re still pulsating and too sensitive. Jungkook whines at your ways, let’s his head fall into your neck again.
«Baby- don’t. Shit- feels so good. Don’t wanna- hurt you» he whimpers when you do it again, his eyes are shut and his cock is twitching but it’s caged in your tight hold and it makes him crazy.
«Please, wanna feel you cum,» you kiss the soft skin of his neck, warm and fair, leave your lips on it as you speak «please, love»
«Baby, for real I-» his voice trembles as he tries to restrain himself.
«Please,» you pout even though he can’t see you, you move your hand slowly down his back until you find his asscheek «cum for me? Want you to paint my pussy with your cum» 
God, he can’t think straight when you whisper filth like this in his ear and make it sound like the sweet prayer of an angel, honey coated.
You squeeze his asscheek slightly, push your hand down on his flash to make him sink deeper into you, your juices wet and soaking his balls. 
«Fuck, tell me if it hurts» he whines knowing well that you won’t give up. His arm pulls you to him more until your hard nipples are tight against his chest and his cock throbbing inside you. He pulls out slowly, driving himself crazy with the sounds of your pussy and how good you engulf him, dives deep inside you at the same pace. His cockhead is oversensitive, when it touches your walls it leaks so much precum that you bite your lips and Jungkook moans loud and breathy, tight to you. He open his lips on your skin, breathes in your sweet scent and kisses your flash endlessly as he pulls back his hips again just to push back inside slowly. 
«So wet,» he whimpers «so freaking wet, baby. Drives me insane» 
«Wanna see your face when you cum,» you tug at the roots of his hair a bit and Jungkook’s hand reaches yours as he raises his head to look at you, bringing it on the bed and interlocking his fingers «love when you cum for me»
He’s desperate, out of breath, whiny, high pitched as he fucks himself slowly into your heaven, so freaking juicy and wet that he’s afraid he’d slip out if his strokes were any longer or faster. The thought pushes him closer, having your pussy so wet for him and your arms all around him, your face looking at him as he hovers over you, features ethereal and full of love and admiration for his pleasure, whispers in his ear.
«Love you,» when you peck his nose he whines even more ��love you so much. Can’t get enough of you»
«My- baby,» his breath is staggered «you’re- my baby»
Your hands make him crazy, they brush against his back and help him fuck himself into you by pushing on his ass, caress his hair, dig into the muscles of his shoulders, write stories on his skin that you didn’t live together yet. Jungkook feels overwhelmed, totally defeated. You bring him close to you, kiss him sloppy and dumb and make him the happiest man alive and suddenly, he’s whimpering and moaning and his movements come to an halt. 
«Fucking- fuck, shit» he cries into your mouth with his eyes closed and squeezed, eyebrows furrowed, voice not even able to speak properly. His cum bursts inside you, it paints your walls and fills you up totally, hot and wet it mixes with your juices and your pussy clenches around him at the feeling, a breathy whimper coming out of his lips. 
«Can’t- can’t take so much love» he crashes in the space between your head and your shoulder. His body is trembling and his cock throbs inside you. Your breath gets cut as you wrap him up in the best way that you can. You stroke his hair with your fingers, your legs cage him into you again, one of your arms keeps his chest close to yours, so tight that you feel his heart pound and your lips kiss every inch of skin that you manage to reach. 
Jungkook lays there with his mind blank and his heart bursting, hiding himself in his safe place in your neck and trying to steady his breath. 
«Did- did it hurt?» he gulps as he speaks, voice weary and frail. You kiss his earlobe, play with the strands of his hair.
«It didn’t,» you hum «don’t worry about it»
«I’m sorry baby, I- it was too much, couldn’t do what you wanted»
«Changed my mind when we started,» you chuckle as he turns his head, your side profile makes him want to caress your nose with his finger «we can do that another time»
He hums a little, a sweet kiss on your neck.
«I promise it’s gonna be good,» he nods «you make love to me so sweet. Tears me apart» his voice is a bit high pitched, but it comes out as a whisper, so vulnerable. 
You flash a smile, moving slightly under him. Jungkook takes a deep breath and pushes on his arms to kiss your lips and then look down between you. His cock is still inside you and he snuggles himself into your skin as he grabs the base of it, the sensitivity of his length makes him moan as he slides it out of you, drenched in both of your cum and his and still half hard. You pat the bed beside you, turn on your side as he lays down. 
«Closer,» you pout «closer baby»
He fights with the sheets making you giggle as he gets closer, until he lays his head down on the pillow just an inch away from you, body so close you feel the heat radiating from his skin as his arm comes around you and pushes you to him, chest tight. He brushes your back with his fingertips and you shiver when they stroke up your spine, slow and ticklish until they reach the back of your neck and he cups your cheek. 
«Do you want to go for real?» he asks low. You nod your head, a little smile on your lips.
«Wanna go,» you push a strand of humid hair out of his face «for real»
His smile makes your heart clench, that little nose scrunch that you love so much and his cheeks full, eyes full of stars.
«Aish, I’m so happy,» he stretches his leg over yours «we should get the tickets after we shower»
«Let’s do that,» you squeeze his cheek «let’s go shower?»
«Just a little,» he whines and pushes himself tighter against your body «let’s wait a little? Love cuddling after we make love» 
Shit, you can’t help it. You love him so much, he squeezes your heart in his hand every time he looks at you, when he talks with his tone sugar coated, frail and totally helpless and shows himself begging for your love with his eyes, so vulnerable that you just fill full. You want to make him happy. Want to see him smile, giggle and titter, laugh out loud until he has tears in his eyes, colour his world of the same pink shade he paints yours in. You want to make him breathe and feel the same feeling you have in your chest, cause it’s too much to bare on your own and it makes you lose your mind to see him drunk in it. You want to have in wholly, every day and fill your time with memories and experiences, learn as much as you can, the little secrets that he told you and the ones you don’t know yet, find out about his pet peeves when he’ll be older and have arguments just to make up and hug each other so tight that something inside you either breaks and he’ll have to kiss its wound or fixes. Hold him so tight that he can’t breathe, shower him with love and hug him tight when you both cry cause you love each other too much, kiss his insecurities away and give him a shielded place to hide himself in and to heal, cause you will always have your arms empty for him, whenever he needs a safe space you will be here, as you’ve always done with each other. You want him to remember this, and to sleep well, cause you will be here taking care of him just the same as he does with you.
«Love» he coos. You hum in question, a big beam on your face.
«You didn’t tell me»
«What?»
«What you wanted to try» he whispers, eyes big and full of curiosity. You scoff at him and shake your head.
«Next time, I’ll tell you» 
«I want to know,» he pouts «please, tell me?»
You sigh: «you’re still half hard, Koo»
«Don’t care, not in the mood for something freaky now, anyway» he mulls. You roll your eyes at him.
«Who told you it’s something freaky?» you slap his shoulder and Jungkook giggles.
«Then tell me,» he brushes his lips against yours «what is it?»
You cheeks colour of a red shade, his eyes look at them as he munches on his lips, his thumb caresses your cheek.
«Wanna watch while you touch yourself,» you whisper shyly «you don’t have to if-»
«Oh, shit-» he gulps down on his spit «could you do the same while I do that?»
Your eyes widen, you want to laugh for whatever is going on because you came four times and somehow your pussy is getting wet again, it’s ridiculous.
«I- if you want me to» you smile. Jungkook nods and nuzzles his face to you.
«Hell yes if I want that» he chirps. You chuckle at his excitement, hide your face into the pillow. His lips are so stretched that his cheeks hurt.
«Just, let’s take one step at a time,» he strokes your back «I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I want to do things right, in the right way for you» he goes to stroke your hair and you raise your face from the pillow.
«I don’t, I told you»
«I know,» he nods and kisses your lips softly, feather like «whenever you want to do anything, when it’s the right time for you, you know I’m always here» 
«I know,» your heart clenches «I love you»
He pushes his face closer to yours until he’s breathing over your lips and his brush on you as he speaks: «I love you too,» he smiles «loved you for so much, will love you always»
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You you can read the first part here: Closer: Too Close
Read more about Closer here: Closer
Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @mianyas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @jungkookieeee97, @eysloveskoosomuch, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @spookybirstarfish, @vvicadiction, @kimchijeonjk, @suciedad-divina, @katarinamae
254 notes · View notes
smokestarrules · 2 years
Note
ok so what was YOUR fav avarice scene?
Okay. Okay. I am prepared for this question. It wasn’t The Kiss (although that’s a very good fucking scene) and it wasn’t The Kiss PURELY because this scene in episode five grabbed me by the throat. I don’t think I can really articulate the feral emotions this scene makes me feel, but I can try. Also the ten-image limit really tried to screw me here, but I did my best. 
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First thing I want to mention is that Beatrice checks Ava’s pulse before she really starts losing her mind, which means that Ava literally does die. Her heart stops. Beatrice cannot feel her heartbeat. And no wonder - the girl cracked her skull open!! No one can survive that. Beatrice thinks, 100%, that Ava is gone. 
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Then the speech!!! Beatrice’s character arc in this season can be brought down to two things, I think: 1) learning to accept that her own feelings are valid, no matter what those feelings may be and 2) learning to be selfish. 
She doesn’t want Ava to die. She wants Ava to live for her. She knows the lifespan of a Warrior Nun is short, but that’s not enough. She needs Ava to live for herself. 
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And Ava does, thank god (Reya?). And here comes the part of the scene that really makes me lose my mind, because thus far this has been The Beatrice Show, so here’s Ava’s part in it. 
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“They can’t beat us, Bea. Not together.” THIS!!!! I’ve said it before - it would’ve been so easy for Ava to make a joke in this moment, to turn the tone more lighthearted. But Ava sees, I think, sees how fucking terrified Beatrice had been, and so her first instinct instead is to console her with the very thought that’s undoubtedly been keeping Ava calm. 
They can’t be beaten together. Not only does it speak to how much their bond has strengthened since s1, the way they just get each other now, it’s also ultimately a calming idea. They can’t be beaten together. Not just because Beatrice will protect her, but because Ava is stronger with her there. 
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And Beatrice knows all that already, of course she knows already, but she’d still needed to hear it. They’re in this together. They’re stronger with each other, and they’re on the same page about it. 
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And then this hug is just. The softest thing I’ve ever seen. There’s absolutely no time for this, but no one rushes them. They comfort each other without any more words, because they don’t need them. 
Bro. This scene.
959 notes · View notes
choism · 1 year
Text
Bad Roomates | k.hj & j.wy [REUPLOADED]
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Roommates!WooJoong x male!Reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: male!reader, member x member, polyamorous, blowjobs, color system, slight degradation, wooyoung is a brat, hongjoong is cocky, switch!hongjoong, bottom!wooyoung, top!reader
A/N: Hello all! This is a request for my dear friend @peachytangerines! Both him and I noticed that there is little to no male reader or gender neutral smut out there, especially for Ateez so I have decided to write my first male reader piece! It's also my first threesome piece lol. As I become more comfortable in my gender identity, and in my own sexuality I have decided to open up requests for male reader so I hope you enjoy! As always if you catch any mistakes please do not hesitate to send me an ask <3
THIS FIC IS NOT STOLEN BUT REUPLOADED FROM MY TERMINATED BLOG @/huiranghaes!
Fuck this.
Fuck everything, fuck Wooyoung, fuck Hongjoong. Fuck. Everything.
Why are you cursing at everything?  Wooyoung of course. Just earlier you were cussing out Wooyoung for stealing your food, again. Every week something goes missing. Ramen, chips, a whole tub of butter, you name it, it’s gone in a week. Labeling nothing helps, not even continuously yelling at him works. The asshole does whatever he wants.
What’s worse is that this has only been happening a month, before that he has been the perfect roommate, and Hongjoong too, until he started acting up as well. Just two weeks ago Hongjoong has started to get on your nerves on top of everything. Constantly blasting whatever he is working on at the latest hours of the night. Leaving his clothes everywhere. The clothes part may be normal of him actually, but as of late he has been leaving them in the living room and the hallway.
Other than all these things, their behavior has been strange too. Wooyoung has been way more flirty than usual, and more crude. Blatantly talking about his sex life, even making jokes towards you. Usually you would overlook it but for some reason its really getting to you. Hongjoong has been more touchy than usual too. He is usually one for minimal physical affection, but when relaxing in the living area he has to be near you, even have a hand on you or a finger.
Despite the strange behavior, you couldn’t stand it, you were at your limit, and finally you called both of them into the living room to sort everything out. Wooyoung, as if sensing the exact reason he called you in, had a stupid grin on his face. Of course he would get off on being yelled at, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. Hongjoong, however, was calm. You couldn’t tell if he knew what was coming because he had a blank face.
“Alright, what is the deal with you two?” You ask, clenching your teeth. Wooyoung takes a knowing glance at Hongjoong but you miss it, and Hongjoong starts, “What are you talking about?” There is a tone in his voice that you catch that tells you he is purposely playing dumb.
“I know damn well that you know what I am talking about. Wooyoung?” You look over to the man and he just shrugs, acting just as clueless as the man next to him. You can feel your ears heat up with anger. You figured Wooyoung would deny it, he is just a brat by nature it’s normal for him. But Hongjoong too? You swear you’re seeing red. 
Wooyoung does his best to hold back his smirk, he is really trying to hold in his emotions so he can drag out your reaction but he just can’t help himself. You’re kind of hot when you’re mad he thinks to himself. You catch his smirk, and you finally sense a shift in the air. “What’s so funny Woo?” You question him. He saunters up to you, and you see Hongjoong’s expression crack a bit, but immediately go back to unbothered. The brunette circles around behind you and places his hands on your hips, bringing his mouth up to your ear.
You startle under his touch, not expecting him to touch you so boldly like this. Wooyoung flirts, makes sexual comments, anything to get under people’s skin, but he usually doesn’t touch someone unless it’s one of his friends. You shiver, feeling his hot breath on your neck. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” He whispers in your ear, and as if it’s a cue, Hongjoong comes over as well.
“Noticed what? You being more of a brat than usual?” You scoff. They are both so close and you can feel your face heating up. Surely what was once an air of sterness has now faded into sexual tension. You wouldn’t let them overcome you, however. Hongjoong speaks up, “Y/n….Can’t you see? Even I’ve been more touchy than usual.” There is a slight whine to his voice, something more needy. Then you feel it. Wooyoung’s hard clothed cock brushing up against your ass. “I didn’t think I would ever have to be this forward with you, don’t you want us Y/N?” You have to admit, you’re really caught off guard.
Of course, there have been times while living with the both of them that you have thought about one or the other, sometimes both, in a sexual light. Who wouldn’t? Wooyoung just drips sex appeal, and Hongjoong has his moments too, especially when he is in work mode. You’ve always thought about fucking them, but you never indulged those thoughts as you didn’t think either of them would want to do anything. But now here you are, your two hot roommates teasing you, just begging to be fucked.
“I….” You trail off, thinking of what to say. You can’t let them take over, take control. “Of course Woo. Don’t you want me, babyboy?” You finally hear his breath hitch at the nickname. Finally, some control over him. You reach behind your self and grab his hip, pushing him further into you, and you take hold of Hongjoong’s hand, smoothing your thumb over the back of his fingers. “Is this why the two of you were acting like nuisances? You just wanted me to fuck you?”
Wooyoung is rubbing against your ass a bit more roughly, and you can feel your cock growing in your pants. The thought of the both of them thinking about you like this for months makes your head spin. Hongjoong pouts, “Of course we want you to, we have been planning this for a while.” You bring your hand up to his face and you brush your thumb across his lips, Hongjoong closing his eyes and falling into your touch. 
“Then I’ll give you what you want, but I have conditions.” Wooyoung pulls away and joins Hongjoong’s side, both of them ready to listen intently. Hongjoong grabs a hold of Wooyoung’s hand unconsciously and the younger man gives it a squeeze. “Firstly, you will only address me as sir, anything other than that isn’t allowed.” Shyly Wooyoung breathes out a small “Yes sir.” and Hongjoong does the same, but with a bit more confidence. Wooyoung can’t help but let his smile escape once again, excitement taking over and ideas running through his head. “Secondly, I am in charge, especially considering what you two put me through this past month.” They both nod, but judging by the look on Wooyoung’s face, you suspect he won’t listen that much.
“And finally, let’s use a color system, green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop, is that all good?” Hongjoong speaks first, “It sounds perfect to me.” And Wooyoung nods indicating he feels the same. Without saying anything you walk towards your bedroom and they follow behind obediently. “Then let’s start shall we? Wooyoung, get undressed, everything except your underwear.” Hongjoong looks at you with expectant eyes as Wooyoung undresses himself hastily. “Not yet Joongie, I have something special for you.” His eyes glimmer and a mischievous smile spreads across his face.
When you look back Wooyoung is finally undressed, his cock visibly straining against his black briefs. You walk up to him and kiss down his neck, brush your fingers over the waistband. “You were the worst one, so you get to waist longer, now be a good boy and go sit on the chair over there.” He lets out a whine and grabs your wrist but you pull away. “But-” “Chair. Now.” He mumbles out a yes sir and takes a seat, looking at Hongjoong he pouts and the older man sticks his tongue out jokingly. 
You walk over to Hongjoong and push him onto the bed, leaning over him and unbuttoning his shirt. He goes to touch you but you stop him. “Ah ah, only I get to touch for now.” Hongjoong whines a bit but he doesn’t question you, letting you take off his shirt and toss it aside. You work at his belt and pull his pants off too, taking his underwear off along with them and his cock springing free. Hongjoong wasn’t very big but he had some girth to him. His tip is already glistening with precum, and his veins are popping out around his abdomen. You run your hand from his chest to his pubic bone, stopping just above his length.
“Okay Wooyoung, come here.” Wooyoung eagerly gets up and walks over to you, and as you stand up and back away from the man underneath you, Wooyoung very openly looks down at your crotch, and eyes your cock visibly straining against your own pants. He looks up into your eyes. “Yes sir?” He asks impatiently, waiting for your orders. “I want you to suck off Hongjoong while I get ready. Wooyoung looks over to his older friend, eyeing his cock then looking into his eyes. Joong bites his lip at the thought of Wooyoung sucking his cock.
“Yes sir.” Wooyoung responds, walking over to the edge of the bed and lowering his knees to the floor in between the red heads legs. Hongjoong lifts his torso up so he is sitting upright, looking down at the crown of Wooyoung’s head. You take this time to undress yourself and gather some items. “And Wooyoung, don’t let him finish, if he cums you get the punishment.” He holds back a groan but simply nods his head, lifting his hands up to Hongjoong’s cock and stroking his length, getting a feel for what he likes. Hongjoong throws his head back in pleasure, and lustfully stares down into the younger man’s eyes.
Wooyoung takes his tip into his mouth, sucking gently and stroking his thumb along the veins, using his other hands to cups his balls and apply light pressure. Hongjoong has been pent up for so long that he can already feel the heat growing in his abdomen but he doesn’t hold back his moans. He is curious to see how Wooyoung would get punished so he allows himself to revel in the pleasure.
Wooyoung takes him into his mouth fully now, running his tongue along the bottom of his cock and letting spit bubble and pool at the sides of his mouth as his pace quickens. He thinks he can get Hongjoong to the edge, he wants to see him on the edge. Hongjoong looks fucked out already, and it just encourages the brunette to move faster, squeezing and massing his balls tighter, and hollowing out his cheeks. Hongjoong’s moans grow louder as he feels himself get closer to his orgasm, at this rate he knows he won’t be able to hold it.
Wooyoung moves the hand holding Hongjoong’s balls to his thigh, digging his nails in as he let’s Hongjoong throat fuck him, Hongjoong’s hand flying to his hair to push him down further. All the while you are nearly done, Fully undressed and your cock slapping against your stomach as you grab some lube and some rope. Wooyoung knows he doesn’t have very long before Hongjoong cums and as he is about to pull back Hongjoong grips his hair harder keeping him in place. The brunette tries to make noises of protest, probably proclaiming that he is cheating but the vibrations just send Hongjoong over the edge, letting his load coat the younger ones throat.
The younger man swallows every drop and pulls back, “That was cheating, you can’t do that!” He yells but Hongjoong just laughs. You walk back over to the bed, setting down your items. “I didn’t say Hongjoong couldn’t hold your head, therefore you get the punishment Woo.” All he does is whine loudly, but secretly he wants to be punished. You know this of course, Wooyoung likes being degraded, yelled at, anything that pushes someone’s buttons and he faces the consequences he loves, but you have something else planned for him.
“Go sit on the chair again.” You demand and he does as you say. You pull off Wooyoung's underwear and let his cock free. Wooyoung’s dick is a lot bigger and girthier than Joong’s, and a lot angrier. Just like his arms, veins decorate his cock and his abdomen. You take the rope you procured off the bed, and tie Wooyoung’s arms to the chair. His cock twitches at the sensation of being tied up. You bend down and place a soft kiss against his lips and ask him, “Color?” He whines out, “Green.” You grip his cock for a second, just to tease him and he moans out loudly, finally being touched for the first time, but just as quickly as you grabbed him you let go. “Now you get to watch me fuck Joongie.” You whisper in his ear and he grumbles. He wants to be fucked first, he already worked so much.
You make your way to the bed and lift a leg over Hongjoong, your cock directly in front of his face. “Spit.” Hongjoong spits on your cock and you lube yourself up naturally, spreading it around. “On all fours, do you want to be stretched first?” Hongjoong whimpers out, “Yes sir, please fuck me with your fingers.” He moves into the position and you pick up the lube, dripping some onto your fingers, and onto his hole. You circle his rim with your single digit, teasing him a bit before slowly pushing in. You avoid his prostate for the time being, just wanting to stretch him and work him back up to hardness. You’ve decided that Hongjoong gets to cum twice, but Wooyoung only once.
Hongjoong’s cock grows back to full length as you insert another finger, the feeling of you fucking his hole making him groan and writhe. It isn’t long before you insert a third digit, and start brushing against his prostate. His moans start to get louder and you can even hear Wooyoung whining, thrust his hips in an attempt to feel anything. You bring your other hand down onto Hongjoong’s ass, leaving a red mark and earning a loud yelp from the small man. “Are you ready for my cock?” He doesn’t say anything immediately, only focusing on your fingers hitting his prostate over and over. You hit his ass once again, “I asked you a question, slut.” Hongjoong whimpers, “Y-yes sir!” He yelps.
You remove your fingers and Hongjoong bite his lip at the empty sensation. You get up and walk over to Wooyoung, dragging the chair over to the edge of the bed. “Move your face over to where Wooyoung is, he needs a front row seat.” Hongjoong crawls over to the edge of the bed, Dangling his head over the edge, directly above Wooyoung’s angry cock. You move behind Hongjoong and line yourself up, spilling lube onto yourself and onto his fluttering hole. He whines as you press your tip into his hole, only filling in halfway to let him get used to the girth. 
The redhead has to bite his lip as you bottom out finally, filling him up. He feels so tight around you, so wet. You groan out before slowly rocking your hips back, starting at a slow pace so he can get used to you. Hongjoong is so close to Wooyoung’s cock that the younger man can feel his hot breath on it. You slowly build your pace, and feel your orgasm growing closer, seeing the way Wooyoung looks everytime Joong gets close to his cock is driving you crazy. “Hongjoong, suck Wooyung’s cock for me baby.” He does as you say, letting his tongue fall out, and licking and sucking on his tip sloppily. You can tell that Wooyoung is already close from watching you and Hongjoong fuck around, but you aren’t going to let him finish easily.
You pick up the pace, fucking into Hongjoong harder and forcing him to choke around Wooyoung’s cock. Both the men let out whines, tears even pricking at wooyoung’s eyes from the pleasure, the ropes feeling tight around his wrists as he thrashes about, wanting to grab Hongjoong and make him take in his cock further. “Joong please…. Take in more. I can't take it.” Wooyoung begs but the redhead knows better than to do what he asks, he only takes orders from you. You are slamming into Hongjoong at this point, your orgasm only moments away, Hongjoong’s as well. With just a few more strokes you finish inside of him and bring your hand down to his throbbing cock and he finishes as well, rope after rope of cum falling onto the bed and your hand. You can tell that Wooyoung is right at the edge too. “Hongjoong pull away.” He pulls away with a popping sound, and after a few seconds pass Wooyoung starts moaning again, tears in his eyes. He spills onto Hongjoong’s face with loud moans. You laugh, proud of yourself for effectively ruining his orgasm. One last rope of cum lands onto Joong’s face and Wooyoung comes down from his high.
You slowly pull out of Hongjoong’s now aching hole and he whines at the feeling. You go to your bathroom to grab a couple of wet washcloths to clean all of you up. When you come back you hand one to Hongjoong and go to wooyoung, untying his ropes and cleaning him up. “That was mean.” He huffs. You can clearly tell that he loved it though. “That’s what you get for being a brat. Play nice next time and we will see how I treat you.” A mischievous smile covers his face, “Next time?” His eyebrow wiggles and you just roll your eyes. You throw the washcloth at his chest. “Clean up you heathen.”
“I would love for there to be a next time.” Hongjong says brightly, cleaning Wooyoung’s cum off of his face in the mirror on your nightstand. “I would too.” You say, kissing Hongjoong on the forehead.
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Code Blue Ch. 52 - Masks
Summary: Craig and Jeffrey bicker over the missing vehicle. Josie and Craig continue to grow closer. A shocking sight gives Josie sore eyes. Jeff is concerned for a friend and gives his two cents. A theory sparks a hunting trip. Jeff exceeds his limits with Josie and she lets him know. Orlando is put on blast. Mama March speaks her truth. Someone else is put on blast by Jo. Megan confesses something that rocks Jo's world.
*Chapter Warnings* Strong language, angst, sexual references
Chapter word count: 8,854
Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:
Salem, Massachusetts
March 22, 2022
The three of you were all in different states of consternation over hearing that the Trans Am was missing and of course over the ghastly events that happened before that. Craig's was red-faced anger as he paced about, yours was simply shock as you stood hugging yourself with bristled arms and Negan's was an eerie calmness as he sat under a tree in unusual silence, softly gritting his jaw.
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"The fucking car is gone. The...fucking...car...is...gone!!" Craig erupted as he chucked his phone to the ground.
Finally, Negan spoke. "Well maybe you should have took the fucking keys out of it."
Craig froze solid with a cocky head tilt and poisonous pupils. "Right...because people are just lined up to hop in and steal a rust bucket reeking of fucking animal dung."
"Shit happens." he uttered with no emotion.
"Shit happens?! Always got a wise crack for everything don'tcha Jeffrey?! Well yes, shit does fucking happen and not just to you. I would love to just sit under a fucking tree, all calm and relaxed, twiddling my fucking thumbs and not give a shit because HEY... shit happens!"
"Back off Parker and pull that stick out of your dick. It's making you cranky." Negan warned with a growl. "The Venus Flytrap could have been towed. Ever think of that? Whatever the explanation, there's not a goddamn thing we can do about it at this time, now is there snarky Parky?"
"Watch your insolent fucking tone! Towed is NOT good because that places the car at my property smart ass and we both know the rest of that clodhopper clan will realize they're missing two of their kin and come snooping around just like they did today over Jo's car!"
"And then we'll make sure they're reunited with their missing loved ones or did you forget who the fuck we are?? I now know where Dwight's ugly mug has been holing up so now I have a damn good reason to go on a little backwoods hunting trip and sniff around like a fucking bloodhound."
"Well you do what needs to be done and I'll go do what needs to be done. Cleaners are here. I'm going to go check in on that mess and then head to my meeting at Pozzulo's that I am now twenty minutes late for and have to explain to Sonny exactly why that is! And you...you can find your own fucking way into town!"
Craig storming exit broke your trance and you ran after him. "Craig please wait!"
He sighed heavily and stopped as you caught up to him behind some brush and stole his hand.
"Are you ok?" you softly asked.
"Is that a rhetorical question??" he spat and then immediately closed his eyes, releasing a softer sigh of remorse. "I'm sorry Jo. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that...you're asking me if I'M alright after what you just saw. I told you not to come. I don't care how many times you've seen these things. I didn't want you to see it with me. I can only imagine what you must think of me now."
"I think no less of you than I do Jason. I carry the same loyalty for you that I do him, especially now and I want to thank you for what you did for me because I don't even want to think about what would have happened if you and Ne..Jeff hadn't intervened. I could have been severely assaulted in more ways than one and possibly even be dead right now."
"Thanking me for what just went down don't even feel right. I'm not proud of it but predators like them need to be put down. How many other women and innocent people have they hurt, or even killed? and they surely weren't going to stop with you and I'll be damned if I'm going to let anyone ever hurt you...and Jason's your brother Jo. Of course you would have a bias for him. Me?...I'm no one to you and I think your guilt over Blaise plays a huge role in your graciousness of me."
You weren't sure where it came from, the urge to hug him, but you did it anyways. It was your nerves, you deciphered. They needed the calming effect of his strong safe arms paired with the relaxing aroma of his cologne. The purpose was somewhat challenging though since you had to stand on your tippy toes due to his height which caused you to feel his gun awkwardly pushing against your lower boundaries.
Stunned from the unexpected embrace, Craig hands hesitated for a moment to accept your closeness. The feel of your small soft body against his and the intoxicating cherry scent of your hair in his face was morphing the big tough mob man in to a vulnerable little boy. He so longed for a woman's touch, but not just any woman's. Yours. With reluctance, he permitted his hovering hands to softly lay upon the small of your back.
"Craig...that's not true." you assured into his warm ear. "Of course I feel guilty about Blaise and I always will no matter what you say, especially after seeing the state you were in yesterday, so lost and in so much pain... but Craig, that guilt has nothing to do with what I feel in my heart. I think of you as my friend. I care about you. Is that so hard to believe?"
His hot breath prickled your ear. "Actually it is. You don't even know the details of my upbringing and let us not forget Liz's path of destruction."
After the longer than expected hug, you pulled back, leaving your arms still clasped around his neck and gazed up into his child-like orbs of blue. "Not everyone is out to hurt you Craig. Not everyone is Elizabeth and as far as Cyrus..."
His eyes wandered away from yours. "I don't want to talk about this."
"Craig, I too am a really good listener and have a strong but soft shoulder to lean on as you once told me and...
"Well Jo, your ears are not listening right now damn it!" he suddenly barked as he brought his hands to your upper arms and gave you a harmless warning shake, stunning you but not scaring you in the least.
The way he looked at you though, searching your face with a confused frustration in his gaze, his bold and blazing blues also held a very deep desireful passion when they locked on to your lips. Rendered stiff as a statue, you held your breath, for you could have sworn he was going to kiss you, but he didn't. Instead, he swiftly backed away, placed his hands on his hips and strongly exhaled.
"Why Jo? Why are you so damn persistent and stubborn?"
"And why do you continue to entertain this lifestyle when I can clearly see it's taking a massive toll on you? And working under Sonny no less? What about Blaise WHEN you get her back? Do you want to raise her in this world?"
"Here we go again. Jo...you know I can't get just get out."
"I don't believe that for one minute. The other day, you told me that I'm only stuck if I choose to be. Well, the same applies to you. I know it wouldn't be easy whatsoever, but it can be done... but that's not what I asked you."
You were thinking of both Lee and Luke in that moment and how they had lived a similar life many years ago and managed to leave it behind, but then again...that world was on another continent. This one was right here in Salem where Craig resided AND ran in his family and you knew he didn't do it to make papa proud. Speaking of the devil, Craig then referred to him.
"You met the reason why and he needs to be taken down. Satisfied? Jo, I really have to go. Have Jeff walk you back to your car."
"Fine but this conversation is not over."
He smiled, shook his head and lightly grazed your cheek with his fingertips. "I never believed for one minute that it would be. Take care love."
You watched Craig swagger off through the thicket leading back to the killing fields and once he was gone, you headed back to find Jeff.
"Come on!" Jeff groaned as he urgently fought to undo his uncooperative belt. "I'm gonna need my own goddamn pissin pants in about 2 fucking seconds."
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Once he finally freed his manhood, he made no effort to contain his booming moan of relief as he rid his body of the booze he had previously overindulged in during his gardening project at Craig's complex.
Swaying his steaming fluid of gold back and forth in an artful figure 8 pattern, he closed his eyes and chuckled as it blasted into the dead leaves. "If a dude drains the main vein in the woods and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound? And the answer is...I don't give a flying fuck cause I'm all out of fucks to give."
As he shook off the last few drops, his eyes popped open at the sound of your ghastly gasp. A gasp so great, you could have sworn you swallowed a giant bug and when you both snapped out of the initial shock, Jeffrey, quite utterly amused, took his sweet time to seal himself back up as he watched you bury your face in your hands.
"Jumpin Jehosephine!" He cheerfully jested. "I do believe your eyeballs just leaped from their sockets and rolled right up my dick. What's the matter you sneaky kitten? Never seen a man's junk before?"
"Not yours!!" you yelled in a muffle from underneath your sweaty palms.
He released a cocky snicker. "Now we both know THAT'S not true because YOU just did and I must say, that was one long intense eyeful. I do believe they call that gawking. So what do ya think pussycat? Do I measure up to the simile "hung like a horse?"
Against your will, your filthy warped mind silently answered that he certainly did and you cringed at the perverted thought.
"Oh my god will you just tuck that thing away already so I can turn around??"
You heard a tug of war zipping and a jingling of his buckle. "Voila. The eye of the tiger is all tamed for now but it won't be long before I have to unleash the beast once again. Liquids go through me like a cheap paper towel."
"Then I guess we better get going. Craig wants you to walk me back to my car."
If a pair of eyes rolled so hard that they could have done a complete 360, it was Jeffrey's as he shouted out into the woods in his ongoing bitterness. "Yes Sergeant Pecker. Oh damn, I mean Parker."
As you both began walking, you defended Craig. "You should really take it easy on him right now. He's going through a lot with Blaise missing."
"Right. Well I get that. I do. But you see, Craig likes games, and don't get me wrong, I'm all for that as you may have noticed, but his favorite one is where he likes to play "my dick is bigger than yours" and I can assure you, as you may have ALSO noticed, that I win that game, hands fucking down. He projects too much."
"Are you really dick measuring right now? And how would I know whom is more sizeable??? And.... wait...how would YOU know if your cock is more sizeable???"
"Ohhhh!" he jumped with a flinch and then chortled. "Did you just say...cock?"
You riposted with a comical confidence as you grinned. "What? I can say cock. You don't own the word. Cock...cock...COCK!"
"Apparently you can and will. Guess I am just more accustomed to hearing a man say it. Look at you, you dirty little girl! I just keep liking you more and more. Now...to add clarity to your curiosity, which clearly almost damn near killed the cute as shit cat just now, I know I've got a few inches on him because I've seen it. I mean, are you gonna bullshit me and say you've never seen any of your girlfriend's tits before? Craig drinks a lot, which, no judgment there whatsoever, but when he does, sometimes he puts on indiscreet displays like I just did such as coming out for a drink of water in the middle of the night as nekked as the day he was born."
"Ok well...I mean, that's just your opinion, is it not?
"Well you tell me then. You say you and Craigypoo are just friends but it sure as shit looked like a lot more than that over there in the brush."
"You were...spying on us???"
"Spying is such a strong word. I'd like to think of it more as investigating. You see, Craig and I may be at each other's throats more often than not, but we go back quite a ways and I actually care about his quirky Kiwi ass. He and I are a lot alike, possibly why we connected so easily. We both have been through the ringer in life, mostly due to a man's biggest weakness....women and their evil funnels of love and his ex did a fucking number on him. I don't want to see that happen again and you...well...as I said before, I know when he's catching the deadly pestilence called feelings and I do believe you told me that your heart was already spoken for. Do you see where I'm going with this cupcake? Sweets aren't always good for people. That shit rots your teeth if you aren't careful."
"Well what'ya know? Bad ass Negan is really a softy at heart. Never would have guessed that."
"Look, Craig and I, or anyone for that matter in this business, have to be a bad ass, which I'm sure you know but that doesn't necessarily make us who we are, which I'm sure you also know. When it's time to get down and dirty, just like today, the armor has to be put on nice a fucking thick so that you become bulletproof, metaphorically speaking and it's also to keep the human that resides under all that armor from fucking shit up with their soft spots. Damn good way to bite the dust and all of this can be said for relationships as well. And to be honest...Craig don't belong in this bullshit way of life. It's not who he is. Hell, it's not who I am, but sadly enough, he was born into it and didn't exactly have a choice like the two of you were discussing. And of course, the rebellious prick in him made a choice anyways and it has landed him in one fucked up predicament of being on the opposite side of his father by working for Cyrus' long time and greatest enemy, Sonny and honestly, neither kingpin is the better option. Craig did it for obvious reasons. To spite his father and regain control of his life, but...does he really have it? Not while Cyrus Renault is alive. We all have our reasons for the fucked up shit we do."
"Yeah, I know that has to be one hell of a burden for Craig to carry. I'm actually glad to know you're looking out for him. I know what Liz did to him and she did the same fucking thing to people I love, Jason being one. So I get it. And Craig knows my situation with Lee and how I feel about him so I don't see that he would ever let himself develop any sort of feelings for me."
"The iconic Elvis tune begs the differ, cause the poor fool may not be able to help falling in love with you. Food for thought there naive Nancy. Well, we are back to your car. You uhh...think you could give me a ride to get my bike? I'd love to take a spin in this beastly hotrod and compare it to my baby."
"Your baby? You call your bike your baby?"
"Nah, that's my bitch. My 67 Impala is my baby, my black magic woman but I let my sons have her. I got a truck or two also and a charger."
"S...sons? You have.... kids?"
"Yeah, shocker huh?? It happened not once, but motherfuckin twice while experimenting with the birds and the bees in my youthful days. Believe that shit? Apparently you don't. Your astonishment astounds me. You know, other women didn't find me as "eww" as you do."
"Oh stop it. Sorry. I guess I just didn't peg you to be the daddy type."
"Ohhh I can be all sorts of daddy darlin. Sugar daddy, your daddy, whichever daddy you want honey pie. Damn I love me some pie." he teased in a low snarl as the dimpled grin resurfaced. "So what'ya say miss American Pie. Drive this Chevy to the levee? I'm gonna do some Chevy measuring instead of dick measuring this time but you can bet your sweet round ass that I'll still say mine's better than yours."
"Yeah sure, I'll give you a lift...but umm...what about the missing car?"
Jeff rested his arms on the top of your car and let his squinting eyes wander around in the sun. "Yeahhh. I have a damn good theory about that. Came to me while I was marking my territory. I'll bet my entire ball sack that there was a third little piggy in the backseat of that pigsty and he got spooked when he saw the big bad wolf, yours fucking truly, and that tells me it was none other than Dwighty who chose flighty over fighty and now I'm going to have to go huff and puff and blow his goddamn house in."
"Jesus, if that's true, then..."
"Then he's going to squeal to the hogs which means it won't be long before a pack of passel come sniffin and snortin around here. Looks like I will be going on that hunting trip sooner than later."
"You're going to go alone??? At least take Craig and how are you even going to find them?"
"Did you not see what I just did all by my tall, dark and lonesome? Craig can sit this one out so he can focus on other things. Besides, I won't be alone. This time, the boys, aka the Saviors, will attend AND I'll also have mean, lean, brain bashing machine Lucille. And finding the farrow and that runt Dwight is easy peasy lemon squeazy when you got a photographic memory and Spinelli the cybershark to look up the plates I took note of. Lets get scootin sweet cheeks. I'm gettin all fired up for a grizzly game of pig chase."
"And you call ME trouble?" you giggled and got in the car after he did.
"As I said buttercup, I call things as i see it."
The first five minutes of the ride was quiet as you both were in your own thoughts. Yours were all over the place due to what you had just witnessed and how strangely calm you were about it all. It wasn't normal. You should have been appalled, frightened and traumatized even, like Lee surely was from his past, but you were neither. Normal, something you deeply craved, had never been your life though, from Peter to Gerry to Jason until you met Lee and believed you had finally found it, but even that was too good to be true after learning of his double life. It was like you were a magnet to the dark underworld. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame and all knew how that always ended. All but the moth.
Jeffrey's thoughts were evasive over the day's events. Even he craved normalcy and he was bound and determined to have some every now and then.
"Well, I've concluded that yep, my Chevy's better than your Chevy. No offense there sweetheart. I think this car is the goddamn shit for being twenty years younger, but lets see if the sound system is. You mind if I turn on some music therapy? We still have about ten minutes left."
Your eyes playfully rolled. "Sure."
He turned on the radio and began punching the pre-programmed stations. When he hit the last one, his excitement startled you.
"Ahhhhh HELL GIRL!! This is creepy as shit!! Swift cheeks has spoken! I rest my case!!!" he loudly gloated and obnoxiously began singing. "I knew you were trouble when you walked in!!!"
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"What's creepy as shit is you singing a Taylor Swift song in my car, or even at all. You're a Swifty??"
"Not in the fucking least." he chuckled. "But she's always got something to say and an ex to diss and you just can't fucking escape the madness. She's a music plague but hey, it worked out b...e...a..utiful this time, didn't it? Oh...Ohhhhho Trouble trouble trouble!! Oh Ohhh...."
"Pleeeeeese stop singing Neg..errr Jeffr....or whatever your name really is."
"I thought we already discussed this darlin, but I gather you don't want to go around callin me daddy. You can save that for the bedroom." he teased with a wink. "So...Jeff will do just fine in the meantime."
You had dealt with his rude and raunchy behavior quite well for the entire hour you had even known him but this time he went too far and his sexual statement triggered you.
"Well JEFF...the only person I've ever called daddy or would call daddy is my father so why don't you work on respectfully calling me by my actual name and not a some different pet name every five minutes and back off on the suggestive and disparaging innuendos while you're at it."
His brows sprung up and his lips puckered. "Oooooo. Do...not...ENTERRR." he whispered with a scolded smile and then he shamefully softened.
"Alright...Josie. I stand corrected once again and I do apologize. My remark was so not cool. I tend to get carried away, mostly around beautiful women and clearly I have crossed a line and entered a forbidden territory. I will do my best to address you by your given name, scout's honor, but it's going to be like teaching an old dog new tricks so I will most likely piss on the floor every now and then. Will that work for you?"
"Hmmm. I guess I can give you brownie points for your sincere apology and predetermination to make it right. Oh, and would you like me to stop at the store to pick you up your own pair of pissin pants for when you have those accidents?"
Now his mouth dropped open. "Woah DOWN girl. Will you stop kickin my ass already? I know I said I have nuts of steel but using my own jokes against me hurts my ego much worse than that blow below the belt I took earlier. Let this old dog have a little dignity will ya?"
You pleasantly smiled at your victory as you pulled up in front of the repair shop. "Alright. I guess I can do that after what you did for me."
"Much appreciated. Oh and let me give you my digits before I go. The more wolves you have at your beck and call, the better."
"I suppose that's a good idea with the way my life is going anymore."
The numbers were exchanged and then he got out.
"Jeffrey, wait."
"Yes...Josie?" he emphasized with a grin as he leaned his tall frame down to peer in at you.
"So you were a boy scout?"
His grin widened into a full set of pearly whites. "Nnnnope! Thanks for the lift. See ya later Trouble."
You smiled and shook your head as he tossed his overshirt over his shoulder, then shut the door and swaggered off the same way he had swaggered in.
About ten minutes later, you were heading up the hospital stairs to go see your mom and sister when you found Orlando slouched and sleeping in a chair outside of the room. You couldn't help but giggle as you stood there for a few moments viewing the vulnerable vision of drool lightly leaking from his softly snoring lips as his head laid slumped upon his drooped shoulder and from that shoulder, his arm hung freely to the floor in the basic chair of no side support. One wrong move and he was going to nose dive right out of it.
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As you crept up, you made sure you stood at his leaning side so he wouldn't fall in case you startled him and then you placed your hand on his shoulder.
"Landy." you whispered.
The drooling doc drew in a snorting breath and flinched as he gaped up at you.
"It's ok. It's ok. It's just me." you assured him and then chuckled. "What are you doing out here sleepy head? Wasn't your shift over hours ago?"
He slowly sat up and stretched, still not quite alert as his eyes flitted. "Oh uh...yeah I...it was. I've been watching over your sister for your mum while she went home and refreshed. She said you were supposed to be here soon so I coaxed her to go by offering to stay until one of you returned."
His kind heart had you gushing. "Landy, that was so sweet of you. You didn't have to do that but thank you for looking out for my family. I'm here now. You should go home and sleep. You look so exhausted."
He yawned, then his brows frowned with embarrassment as he became aware of his saliva remnants and swiftly swiped it away with his thumb. "Yeah. I am a little but...I'm in no rush to go home with Luke still lingering around being a bigger douche than usual with this whole Elizabeth case and besides, I wanted to see you. You ok?"
"Definitely been better, but..fake it until you make it right? So, is Megan awake?" you asked as you peeked in her window, trying to avoid any and all conversations about Luke, especially about how he almost arrested you which could spark another blow up between the two feuding brothers.
"On and off but she hasn't been talking much with being all doped up. You know you don't have to fake anything with me right? If you wanna talk, cry, scream or even just sit together in silence...I'm here Jo. Always."
You felt the sting of happy tears wanting to form but you weren't about to allow anymore crying, so instead, you smiled and hugged him.
"You're the best, you know that? Thank you for helping me out yesterday. I hope you didn't get too much shit for being late."
He gave you a good squeeze and sighed against your ear. "It was all worth it. I'd do anything for you."
As you smiled in the close and comforting embrace, your eyes lifted to see someone who was not smiling. Your mother.
"Well, that is very kind of you and reassuring Dr. Bloom." the fiery haired Margaret March respectfully interjected, but with a passive aggression as her judging eyes locked on him. "I appreciate your offered supervision of Megan and I thank you for your consistent succor of my other daughter but she has the good Dr. Pace for that and I am sure you have your own responsibilities to tend to instead of spending your extra time fussing over your best friend's partner."
"Mommm!" you harshly stressed. "Can you be any more rude? Landy is my friend too and that's all he's doing is being a friend because that's what friends do."
"It is not my intentions to be rude Joey. I just find it strange that I see more of him around you than I do Lee and I have to wonder what Dr. Bloom's own intentions are and maybe your own as well Josephine."
"Oh my god mom...."
Orlando politely cut in, calm and cool with a smile that you saw right through. "It's alright Jo. Your mum is only looking out for your best interest and now I am going to go look out for mine with about 4 cups of coffee before I attempt to drive home."
"But...you don't have your car. I drove you here, remember? I can give you a ride in awhile."
Orlando felt Margaret's eyes burning right through him, warning him to decline. "No really Jo. Thank you but it's fine. I can call a cab. I'll...talk to you later."
He gave a glum smile and rushed off, leaving you fuming with slitted eyes at your mother. "That was just flat out mean mom!"
"What's mean is you not telling Lee about what happened to Megan or not even speaking to him at all for that matter."
"W..what? How do..."
"Yes...he called me in an attempt to locate you and of course I didn't dare tell him you spent the night with David...which..why were you not with Lee??"
"Jesus mom. What...you have a problem with Dave now too?? All we did was watch a movie and then went to bed...separately."
"What I have a problem with is, is your closeness with other men even if they are good friends. I know I sound hypocritical but I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did when you already have a damn good man who adores you. Would you like to see Lee canoodling with other women? How would that make you feel?"
But you did know how it felt when you found out about his one nighter with Britt all those years ago or when you saw him "canoodling" with that Jess girl in his boat house who you went to school with... and then there was Ethan.
"Canoodling??!!! I am not screwing around on him mom, nor would I ever because I know what that feels like and he's also had that done to him as well and...and you don't even know what's going on with Lee so it would be nice if you would stop acting like I'm doing something wrong."
"Well how hard is it to talk to your boyfriend?"
And that did it. You couldn't take it anymore, withholding the tears that begged for Lee and your mother had triggered them. "He's the one who don't know how to communicate mom and that's actually one of the reasons I'm here because I don't know what to do anymore and I needed my mom to tell me what to do!"
You were now sitting in the chair Orlando had skillfully slept in with your hands over your face, rocking back and forth to keep yourself breathing.
The grinding of chair legs closed in on you and your mother's soft hands pulled yours down as she sat at your side. Her evergreen eyes that always appeared to be walnut brown and had been spewing daggers at Orlando only moments ago, were now moist with compassion as she tenderly wiped your tears away.
"You know that I cannot tell you what to do but I can listen and offer you the best advice that I can. What happened Jo Jo? You and Lee seemed so happy."
You knew you couldn't tell her the full blown detailed story, so you gave her a brief summary instead, being careful not to make Lee out to be a bad person because he wasn't and you knew anything that you told her, she would never forget just like she hadn't with Gerry.
"We..we were Ma but...there's things he won't talk to me about. Things that are eating him up inside and these things affect me too which is affecting us and any time that he does open up to me, he withholds the most important parts, although he will swear he told me everything and then I find out about them later and now I...I..."
She finished what you struggled to say. "You don't trust him."
Sighing, your lips pouted with guilt. "I..I can't help it. I DID trust him, more than anyone. So much so that I told him things I have never spoken to anyone about...you know, like...Gerry and all the secrets and lies and...Lee would tell me things from his past too. We connected in a way I cannot even describe. We were so good for each other. It was as if we were healing the damaged parts of each other and god mom, I fell so hard and so fast for him. I'm so crazy in love with him that it hurts to breathe when he's not around."
"I will not ask you to tell me the details, but without knowing them, I can only offer you so much advice. I know what Gerry did and now I do have to ask this much. Joey, did Lee cheat on you?"
"Oh god no." you quickly blurted out. "It's nothing like that mom. I swear. He would never, that much I trust him with. I know how much he loves me and he's fighting like hell not to lose me but I just don't know what to do. I can't be with someone that will not fully give themselves to me. I can't live with waiting for the next bomb to drop because I am always going to believe there is one coming. I don't care about anything he's done and I told him that. This is about trust and honesty and being a team and all I feel like is his opponent."
Margaret's mind wandered to the day when Lee had asked for her blessing to marry you. She had given it to him because she could see that he too was crazy in love with you, but she had also given the blessing with warning not to hurt you and now she understood why he hadn't asked you yet.
"Whatever it is that Lee is concealing, I feel that is why he is distancing himself from you. I do not doubt for a minute that he does not love you with all of his heart and soul, but speaking from my own experiences, I feel he has been deeply hurt in some way, just as you had been and he's just having more difficulty in getting past it and believing that you won't judge him even when you say that you won't. He may even be trying to protect you by pushing you away because maybe he feels he isn't good enough for you?"
You knew it was all of that and most likely much more, but now you wanted to know how her experiences were relevant. "Is...is that what happened between you and Victor?"
"I had a feeling this is why you have chosen to come to me about this and I'm not really sure how to have this conversation with you because of your father. It was all such a painful time and I thought I was going to lose my family over it all..."
"But you didn't. Daddy forgave you and you both got through it because you..."
"Because Victor gave me no choice." she firmly stated and became a bit shaky.
"W..what?"
Her eyes became glassy with tears. "There's a reason people sometimes do not speak of things Jo and this was why I did not. I too have withheld the entire truth to spare my family of unnecessary pain. I...I was in love with Victor and he with me. I...I still love him."
You knew she loved him, but it still stung to hear her say it as you squeezed her hand that still bore your father's wedding ring.
"Mom...I knew this and although I do not condone what you did, the heart wants what the heart wants." you attested as you thought of Lee's identical words to you that morning in his voicemail. "We cannot help who we love and well...you and Victor also share a son because of that love."
She began to softly weep. "I loved your father too and Victor knew it. He demanded I stay with him when I learned I was with child because I made him believe Bo was not his, which I did to protect your father's heart. He wanted me to live a normal family life, one that he could not give me because of his world. A world of crime and lies and secrets and danger. A world that later kept Bo and him at odds just as it did between Jason and Bo and even Gerry had and still has his issues with his father over it. Sometimes I feel Bo was taken from us to punish me for what I did and for keeping his paternity a secret for all those years and that loss changed Victor a lot. He became darker. I suppose Lee can relate after suffering the loss of his own son. Anyways, Victor knew he could never give himself fully to me either and he wanted me to be safe and I know that's why Jason did the same thing to Britta. I know I made the right decision in choosing your father and I do not regret it at all or I would not have all of my precious children but the what if's will always haunt me and I don't want that for you. I don't doubt your love for Lee but you have to be the one to decide if that's enough. For me, it would have been but I couldn't fight for someone who wouldn't let me and you're not letting Lee fight for you by running away so all I can tell you is, before you let the love of your life go, you need to ask yourself if you can live with that because it seems to me that Lee sees you as forever."
Forever. That word punched a hole right through your chest...but now...you knew you had to go see him and give him that third and final chance to come clean.
As you took your phone out to call him, Megan's cries pierced through the halls.
"Mommm!! Momma Mom MOMMM!!!"
Margaret went running into her room as you stood in the doorway and watched your distressed sister cry like a baby in her mother's arms.
"It's alright. I am here my darling girl. So is joey. You are safe."
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Megan's welled up eyes darted around your mom's shoulders to look at you and then she cried even harder.
"You're probably happy and think I got what I deserve and you would be right after everything I have done."
You now stepped into the room, hating that you actually felt sorry for her. "That's not true Megan. No matter what you've done, you did not deserve this."
"Yes I d..did." she bawled. "You don't even know and...and...and you need to know...oh god, my leg...it hurts. It hurts so bad mom."
Your mother then took over to try and calm her as she pushed the call button for the nurse. "Megan, lets not talk right now alright? You need to be checked out. You had surgery on your leg. It is broken."
"But I want to talk! I...I did something so bad."
Now you were highly intrigued and walked up to her bed. "Was it Ethan? Did he make you do something? Did he...did he do this to you?"
"Josephine. Not now. Give her time to breathe!" your mother squawked and got up to look out the door as your sister's sobs continued. "She needs pain medication and where the hell is the nurse?? This is ICU for christ's sake."
Nothing good came from your mother's curses so you backed off for the moment, but when an opportunity arose, you were going to grill your sister over her statement because nothing good came from Megan period. Maybe some drugs would get her talking, you thought as you glanced at the ticking clock. You had just over an hour to meet Lee at the cemetery but you were not leaving there without answers.
Finally, the nurse came in. It was Angel and you became unglued. "Oh hell no! You will not lay one one sleezy finger on my sister you morbid insufferable bitch."
Megan's eyes widened as did your mother's. "Josephine Leeanne March! What on earth has gotten into you??" Margaret reeled.
"This!! This succubus right here is what. She couldn't even handle caring for a 4 year old little girl who is now missing because Lilith here was too busy coming on to my boyfriend and then when he shot her down, she was spreading her legs all of that night for Mr. Carpenter, the man who accused Lee of medical malpractice in the death of his daughter which we all knew wasn't true but it didn't stop her from repeatably banging the abusive lunatic who damn near ruined Lee's career and reputation all for money."
Your mother knew you very well and although she knew you could be extreme as you were being now, she knew you would not lie and the information repulsed her.
"Nurse Smart. I would like you to retrieve my daughter's doctor and find another nurse to administer her treatment. I will not allow such conflict of interest in my daughter's well being because it causes me to believe you may not be able to be objective. Had I been aware of this the last time you were in here, I would have put a stop to it then."
"Mrs. March, I assure you that...."
"Your assurance assures me of nothing, now please LEAVE."
Angel's jaw tightened and her eyes practically set you on fire. "As you wish. I will inform the other nurse to come in and page her doctor."
She left and you apologized. "Sorry mom. That woman is bad news and I couldn't hold my tongue."
"Well, you were looking out for your sister so I can let the theatrics slide, but I am very glad you said something regardless."
Megan became upset again. "I wanna go home Momma. I don't like it here. I don't want to end up like Elizabeth. Please take me home!!"
"Honey, you just had surgery. You have to stay for awhile but I will be right here with you. No one is going to hurt you. I promise."
You wished that were true but you couldn't be certain until Megan named her attacker. Another nurse finally came in, checked her vitals, asked her a few questions and then shot her up with some more morphine which didn't take long to work it's magic.
"Mom, I can't stand it anymore." you contended against her wishes. "Megan...who did this to you?"
She whimpered in fear as she looked to your mom for approval. "It's alright Megan. Whatever you can remember, whatever you're comfortable with telling us, please do so. We want to know what happened and stop whoever did this from doing it to someone else."
"Megs...look at me." you softly commanded. "Was it Ethan?"
Her brows furrowed and then she became agitated. "I...I don't...know."
"What do you mean you don't know? Surely you must have seen your abductor?"
She broke down again. "I...I...I keep trying to picture his face but I can't."
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Your mom took her hand. "Ok..ok my love. Just breathe and try to tell us what you do remember. Anything at all."
"I...I re..remember...Dave. He...he was helping me and then...and then I woke up here."
You were trying so hard to remain patient and understanding. "But how did you get there? What is the last thing that you remember before you saw Dave?"
"I...the police station. I..I was talking to that detective about Blaise. I went there to tell him that I thought Ethan may have taken her because I couldn't stand the thought of that poor little girl being scared and crying for her mommy and Ethan...he...he has no business being a father. He is so mean and controlling. He always talked about how he would have her one day so I..I had to try and help her."
"He has no business breathing. You don't even know half of the things he's done. Or maybe you do since you were sleeping with the enemy."
"JoSEPHINE!" your mother piped again.
"Sorry but it's true...so...ok what happened after that?"
"I...." she paused and her entire face scrunched up in forced thought. "I...I don't know. It's all a fog."
"Alright, lets give her a break Jo. She needs time to..." your mom began.
"There is no time mom! You know what Jason was involved in so let me clue you in about Ethan. He's in that life too, only he is a monster. He's the one that attacked his own brother with a knife, you know, Orlando? The one you just berated. He's lucky it was only his hand and that I was there to stop it and Ethan has done other things to Lee that I will not even mention and now this! My sister is in the hospital, lucky to be alive and my landlord's child is missing so Megan needs to start talking!"
"Jo, I swear. I can't remember right now. I'm trying...but..."
"But what???"
"But...I don't...I don't think it was Ethan."
"What do you mean you don't think it was Ethan?? You just said you don't even remember."
"Because I...it...it don't feel like it was him?" Megan explained as if she were questioning herself.
"That makes no damn sense. Either it was him or it wasn't Megan! I mean, who the hell else would it be???"
"I said I don't know Jo. It's literally all blank after I left the police station. It's like having a blackout from drinking."
Her words made you recall the recent experience you had only two days ago when you took your anxiety medication and drank a bottle of wine and strangely...it was the around same time that she went missing.
"Could you have been drugged?? Think Megan. Mom, did the doctor do a toxicology? Surely they would have."
"I have not been told anything about that. When I got here, she was already in surgery and after you left, the police were speaking with him and wouldn't tell me anything. When the doctor comes in, I will ask."
Luke probably knew since he was the one doing the questioning last night but he wasn't going to tell you now that he was a big bad boy in blue, minus the blue.
"Or." your mom went on. "She just don't remember because of the trauma so I think the questions are enough for today."
"Just a few more mom. Ok, Megan. What about BEFORE the police station. What do you remember? Where was Ethan then?"
"I...don't...know."
"So you remember going there, but nothing before or after until Dave. What the hell Megan? Why wouldn't you remember anything before that?? You remembered that Elizabeth is dead and that happened BEFORE!"
She was becoming disconcerted and anxious and the heart rate monitor began chiming."
"I don't know. I don't know! I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW!!!" she cried and your mom finally stood up and angrily pointed at you.
"That is ENOUGH JO!"
"Alright fine. Then at least tell me what you meant when you said you did something bad."
"Damn it Joey, you are not too old for me to pull you out of this room by your ear!"
"No mom. I want to talk to her. Alone." Megan insisted.
"What? Absolutely not. You're already upset."
"Mom please. I...I need to tell her something private. It has nothing to do with this."
"Then can't it wait? Why now?"
She began bawling. "Because I'm a liar."
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Now you were unsettled. Megan's lies were a common thing that you were used to but this...this seemed different. She said it had nothing to do with any of this so what bomb was she going to drop on you and why now like your mom asked? Maybe it was her near death experience that was actually giving her a conscience. Whatever it was, it was bad just like she said because she was genuinely distressed over it.
"Alright, but only 5 minutes. I'm going to go find the damn doctor myself."
After your mom left, you sat down in her seat and went straight to the point. "What did you do Megan? Just spit it out. After the things I've been through and things you've done to me, I can handle it."
"I...I don't think you can. Not this time."
"Jesus Megan, I don't scare all too easily but now you are scaring me. Did...you lie just now to mom? Do you really remember and...you and Ethan maybe did something bad? Wait...do you KNOW where Blaise is???"
"No Jo! I don't and I didn't lie. I told you it's not about that."
"Then WHAT did you DO??"
She started trembling and her lips quivered as she spoke. "I do remember something from awhile ago. At mom's and..."
"AND???"
"Please stop shouting, please stop shouting." she squeaked as she winced.
You closed your eyes, inhaled deeply and slowly released the desire to strangle her scrawny little neck right then and there. "OK...I'm calm....tell..me."
"It was the day...that Gerry was there. I was home but...you didn't know and I...I heard you both talking. It was about...about what, well that night..that night when..."
"Will you stop stuttering and just tell me what Gerry has to do with anything??"
"Ok, Ok...I..." she sucked in a breath and then began rapidly speaking, reminding you of how Spinelli did that when he was extremely nervous, usually from being cornered. "It was about when he cheated on you with me, except...except he...he didn't. He never did. We never did and I lied. I lied about it all to hurt you because you always had all the men and I was a nobody and always used. No one ever cared for me like they did you so I...I...followed him to the bar that night. He was upset and drinking because of how you had been shot the month before and you both were having problems over it. We sat and drank and he told me all about it because he said you wouldn't talk to him much about it and he felt so guilty that it happened and he...he was crying Jo, just like I saw him sitting in his truck crying after you guys argued at mom's and you took off, only that time I felt bad because you had Lee and he had no one and that was because of me because I...I drugged him Jo and then I took him home because he was in no shape to drive and I...I put on your perfume and came onto him, but he..he rejected me and passed out. I was angry because even then, he didn't want me so I sent you that text from his phone and you believed it and he believed it because he couldn't remember anything when he woke up the next morning lying next to me, both of us naked because I..I undressed him to make it seem real and then you were pounding on his door and..."
You stood up so fast that the chair fell over. Your chest was so tight and your heart was racing. Your entire body violently shook and you couldn't speak as burning tears streamed from your gaping eyes. It was if you had been knocked into some other dimension from the shocking blow.
Margaret immediately came in from the sound of the crashing chair. "Joey?? What's happened? Jo?? Josephine, talk to me!"
Her voice and Megan's crying all echoed as you became giddy upon your feet. You were either going to pass out or go to jail over a moment of temporary insanity and you didn't want either so you stumbled out the door and began running, panting, hyperventilating as you heard her screams fading the further you got.
"Jo I'M SORRY!! I'M SO SORRY!!!"
@redeemer46
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lestappenforever · 1 month
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okay so I wanna voice my opinion bc I feel your blog as the only safe space where I can do that.
regarding Newey leaving the team: I absolutely agree on not seeing him returning to McLaren. I don't think this team at the moment can provide to Newey both sufficient salary and leeway. McLaren are coming back from a slump and I think Newey would be interested in working with those who have come out of that more or less reliably or have long established themselves as a top team. He does not have time to rebuild the team which fell. McLaren needs time, though they are making great progress.
going to Aston Martin: maybe, especially from 2026 as they are switching to Honda engines and Newey already has experience and connections with this company and their supplies from his time in Red Bull. also in the team there is Alonso, which could interest Newey, but most likely this is the last contract for Fernando, and therefore there won't be long years of joint work. further to work with the team in which one of the pilots absolutely cannot realize the potential of the car (side-eye to Stroll) is a waste of time. and with all the rumors of selling Astons – Newey needs someone who can stand their ground confidently.
I don't think Newey is interested in Mercedes in any way, because they've currently lost a driver that he would like to work with, and also got the car concept horribly wrong. all the ground effect era doesn't go well for them. and atm I don't see it changing.
if I remember it right (correct me if I'm wrong) Newey has twice in his career expressed interest in working with scuderia and perhaps now he finally has the opportunity to do so. he was seriously stopped by the fact of moving to Italy, so we'll see how it turns out.
I am not a tifosi, god knows I hate this traditional team, but I respect the work they are doing and the probability of Newey leaving to go to Ferrari is the greatest right now. two drivers with the potential to compete for the title and both can adapt their style to the car. one of them has 7 titles, the other has the potential to compete for the title PLUS importantly has a natural preference for oversteer.
Hamilton and Leclerc are gonna be the best duo to extract everything out of the car and push it to the limit. we'll see how the teammate dynamic will go, but they're both respectful enough to each other. even if once they'll crash, they will talk, solve the problem and move on.
but to be honest I wouldn't worry about Red Bull fans. at least until the end of the current technical regulations. the 2025 car is being developed during 2024 so maybe Ferrari will gain strength and by 2025 Max will have some competition, but there can't be a failure for sure. and lastly: with the new technical regulations Newey usually does not immediately get exactly into the concept and build a "self-driving" car. it usually takes him time so it depends not only on Newey's work but also on how the other teams fucked up or on the contrary amazingly get into the concept.
I've read info that a lot of things on the technical side have also been under Pierre Vache's direction in recent years. so that's when Ferrari pulls him (and then Hannah Schmitz) off as well, I'd start to panic.
I seriously rationally see Ferrari getting stronger, Mercedes falling lower and lower (and it won't be any better in 2025, they fucked up) and maybe at some point these two teams will form a league of top teams, Aston, Macs and Mercs as mid-fielders and then the further outsiders.
however over the next decade (?) I think Williams can make a serious comeback. James Vowles is actually quite ruthless, don't let his insinuating and calm tone fool you. this is the man who swapped places between Valtteri and Lewis in a Mercedes even without the need. he cares about the drivers but first of all he cares about the team. so don't be surprised if Logan will end up without the seat next year.
James Vowles is a strategist and has already started to change the team and also the approach to the car. imo it is a known fact that the car of the top team is built so that it is good everywhere: straights, fast-corners, low speed corners... they might not be the best. but they're good everywhere. balance is the key to success. outsiders, on the other hand, make sure that the car has pronounced strengths. therefore, the car can only score points on a track that suits its configuration. the strong point of Williams was the straights. this year it is not as pronounced as in previous seasons, but it is a sacrifice for future development. keeping an eye on this team because their approach is the most promising in the long run of all the outsider teams.
and one last thing I wanted to say for everyone reading this post and especially for those new to Formula 1 fandom: don't let vroom vroom world events affect you emotionally. otherwise every new weekend will be an emotional swing. don't cry about Newey leaving, don't get mad at James for his decision on Logan in Australia. there is no point. you have no influence on these events and negative emotions are not the nicest thing to feel. so just observe. this will keep you sane.
thank you very much for reading this long ask, I really want to know your opinion on my takes. please, tell me if you disagree, I'm very open to see arguments, why am I wrong. thank you once again 💚
First of all, I'm so happy that you see my blog as a safe space to share your thoughts! That makes me so happy.
Anon, I don't have anything at all to add to this, not to mention that I do not have anything I can say I disagree with. So if you don't mind, I'm just going to leave this here in all its glory. Just know that I am in love with your mind. 💚
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 2 years
Text
All To Yourself
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pairing: best friend!Wonwoo x gn!reader
genre: a bit of fluff and suggestive (implied smut), best friends to lovers!AU
warnings: cursing, kissing, sexual tension, mild scratching, slight possessiveness, mutual pining but make it silent, use of petnames (sweetheart, baby)
word count: will add later
Summary: Maybe you shouldn't have kissed your best friend. Or maybe you should have done it sooner.
Author's note: There is no excuse anymore lmao, y'all can blame @delicatewerewolfsoul for this
tagging: @dinosbestie @wonwussy @wonwoosthetic (suffer hehe <3)
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Jeon Wonwoo is a very intriguing person.
He always has a way to make heads turn around, enticing people with his naturally attractive looks and smart wits, but only a few selected have actually grasped what he's all about.
You, as his best friend, are one of them.
It's really funny, actually. How cliché everything is - having a crush on the off limits hot best friend for the longest time and cheeks heating up every time you're meeting up with him, whether it's at your favorite cat café or that ramen restaurant that you've been going to since college.
Except it has started to get unbearable as of lately and it's about to drive you crazy, especially now that he's staying at your place, because the floor of his own apartment is currently being repaired - a broken pipe in the kitchen can be a pain in the ass.
And that's how your best friend ended up staying over.
"Hey Y/N?", "Yeah?", "Do you have any spare towels?", "They are in the cupboard, under the counter", you answer, "Why do you ask?".
"Uh, I wanna take a shower and I forgot to get some from my house", he rubs his neck, "I hope it's okay?", "Yeah, of course it is, you dumbass!", you laugh it off, "Go ahead, Won".
You go back into finding something good to order for the night when you suddenly realize what is about to happen.
Wonwoo is taking a shower in your bathroom. And will come out in just a towel - your towel.
"Oh God, calm down, calm the fuck down, he's just taking a shower", you're muttering to yourself, rubbing your hands on your thighs to calm down.
"Fuck I am not okay", you huff and open the fridge, taking out a bottle of ice cold water, downing it in one go.
Not knowing what to do, you go into your bedroom and plop on the bed like a starfish, contemplating about your life choices and feelings.
Feelings. Like the romantic ones you have for Wonwoo. The ones you could never admit to him because you're shy and scred you'll ruin your friendship with him.
"God I have fucked up so bad, I want him so bad", you whine and cover your face in your hands, kicking your feet in annoyance.
"Who do you want so bad?".
You almost shriek out loud and jump on the bed when you hear Wonwoo's voice from the door and your eyes are about to jump out of your head as soon as your gaze falls on his body.
His naked body, covered by your towel hanging low on his hips. Keyword: your.
"Are you going to answer my question, sweetheart?", he asks you again, a cheeky smile resting on his face. "Hmm, no, I don't think I will", you get up and make a beeline for the living room, but Wonwoo blocks the doorstep with his arm.
"Wonwoo, can you please move so I can go to the living room?", you ask him with a nervous tone, trying to keep your composure. "Hmm, no, I don't think I will", his voice drops an octave and he effortlessly pins you on the wall, caging you between his arms, his perfectly sculpted torso right in front of your face.
"Wonwoo, what are you doing?", "Me or you?", "Can you just let me go- fuck you smell so good", you mutter as your nose inches closer to his skin, a sweet, sexy scent invading your senses, making your knees turn to jello.
"Bitter Peach", "H-Huh?", "That's the name of the perfume I use, sweetheart", "You...wear perfume right after showering?", "Only on special occasions", he chuckles, his face inching closer to yours.
"Am I a special occasion then?", you ask him, voice barely a whisper, breathing growing uneven with each passing second.
"You've always been the special one to me, Y/N", Wonwoo whispers back, his feline like eyes searching for any sign of hesitation, any negative emotion, hoping there's no trace of them.
His heart skips a beat when you unexpectedly smash your lips on his, a low moan bubbling in his chest, the same chest your hands are palming, either because you needed a supporting surface or you wanted to roam your hands on his still damp body. Probably the second.
He instinctively holds the side of your neck, something he has been dying to do for so fucking long. He can feel your hands clutching on him, your nails subtly scratching his skin and it makes his chest swell with pride.
"So eager to keep me all to yourself, aren't you?", "As if that wasn't your goal all along - I bet the flooding in your apartment was a lie", you pull back to catch your breath, head resting on the wall. "No, that wasn't a lie. But it was a wonderful chance for our very cliché scenario to unfold, don't you think?", he raises his eyebrow in a cheeky manner and you can't help but roll your eyes.
"If you want to see the scenario unfold as you said, I think it's time you dropped that towel", you tug at the soft fabric teasingly. Wonwoo scoffs and picks you up in his arms, walking a few steps backwarsa until he reaches the bed and puts you down on your back, supporting himself on his arms.
"Don't worry, baby, I will drop the towel... After I'm done taking off your clothes".
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axailslink · 1 year
Note
What’s good baby girl 👁️👁️
🫦
I was wondering if you could do a Riri x Shuri x reader fic where reader gets jealous because rot and Shuri are hanging out with another girl but reader doesn’t tell them just asking baby girl
I don't fucking like her
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Summary: you're easily jealous over what is yours that includes your girlfriends which have been focusing on someone other than you.
A/n: I uhm feel very uncomfortable with that name but like I find it funny so go ahead I guess.
Snippet from the fic: "After five minutes of fighting with Shuri, you've tired yourself out and you give up. Riri and Shuri sit beside you on the bed now "so you're jealo-" Shuri starts to speak but you interrupt "I'm not jealous" Shuri turns and glares at you "shut up" you scrunch your face up because who does she think she's talking to?"
You believe that jealousy is a perfectly normal and healthy feeling to have when it comes to a relationship but recently you've been having immense feelings of jealousy.
Your bed is never cold so when you wake to one your first thought is worrisome you call Shuri using your kimoyo beads and she jumps at your panicked tone "where are you? Why'd you leave? Where's Riri?" She pauses for a moment "my love calm down you seem panicked we just went for some ice cream with Sheila didn't want to wake you." All of your panic is thrown out the window and replaced with jealousy when you hear her name. Sheila is a woman they both know because of the superhero personalities they take on. At first, you didn't see her as a problem but it's slowly starting to bother you more and more to the point where it's clouding your judgment you seriously don't fucking like this woman. First, she joins them in the lab so you leave the lab then she continuously keeps them from home now she's going to get ice cream with them. You can't help but feel left out because in all seriousness what the fuck. "Babe you good?" You hear Riri ask and you don't reply because if you say "yes" it'll only be a lie and you'd never lie to them. If you say "no" they'd come running home to make sure you're okay and you truly don't want to be a burden because you're letting your jealousy get the best of you. Instead, you hang up at least you don't have to answer right now and you can continue acting like Sheila's sudden intrusion on your life doesn't bother you.
You shower and wash all of the worries away until you exit the bathroom and enter your room unaware of your girlfriends and Sheila's presence. You hold the towel around your chest and swallow a groan when you see Sheila "why is she in our room?" You ask simply as you walk to your drawer and drop your towel. Shuri is quick to get up and wrap you back up "see that right there I am in my own space in my own fucking house and I have to cover up because of a guest I did not invite in. That's pushing my limit. Shuri and Riri you are pushing my limit. Sheila get out." Sheila looks at both Riri and Shuri and that pisses you off more "this is my house get the fuck out. Please and thank you." You wear a sarcastic smile as she walks out of the room. Shuri drops the towel and Riri is quick to call you out on your attitude as usual " what's up with you acting like that?" You look her up and down before turning back to your dresser and grabbing a pair of underwear "that's a dumb question why wouldn't I be acting like this?" You glance at Shuri now "I'm getting out of my shower and coming into my room and I have to cover up because of a guest that I did not invite into my home. You take a wild fucking guess as to why I'm acting like this." Shuri sighs as you pull on your underwear and then slip on a large white t.
"Y/n I've been avoiding asking this..." Riri glances at Shuri as if shushing her without saying anything "are you jealous?" Yes. Hell yeah, you're jealous but are you going to say that? Of course not. You slam your drawer shut and approach Shuri a finger pointing in her face. "Am I jealous that both of my girlfriends are spending more time with someone they work with than with me their girlfriend of two years? Absolutely not I'm not jealous at all I'm definitely not jealous of the fact that I woke up to a cold bed instead of ice cream. I'm not fucking jealous at all." Riri carefully grabs your hands pulling you back seeing as you're getting riled up. You hear your door creaking open and that's it. That's your last straw because did you not just tell this bitch to get out of your house? You snatch your lamp from your desk as you start to approach the door but Shuri grabs you this time pulling you into the bed. "Get out of my fucking house Sheila!" Shuri covers your mouth and Riri walks to the door "I'm sorry Y/n is.-" She glances back at you as you kick and bite to get out of Shuri's grip "-having a moment you should leave I'm not asking." Sheila finally takes the hint and leaves but Shuri doesn't let you go.
After five minutes of fighting with Shuri, you've tired yourself out and you give up. Riri and Shuri sit beside you on the bed now "so you're jealo-" Shuri starts to speak but you interrupt "I'm not jealous" Shuri turns and glares at you "shut up" you scrunch your face up because who does she think she's talking to? Not you couldn't be you maybe the man across the street but not you. You don't speak though because you know she's serious "act like a child I'll treat you like one" you stay quiet as Riri speaks now "you have nothing to be jealous of baby that woman means nothing to us yeah she wanted to spend more time with us but we never forgot about you while any of it was happening. You do know that right?" You sigh "we bought you ice cream too it's in the freezer" Shuri mentions and you immediately start to feel bad seeing as you even thought these women were in some way unfaithful to you. "Not only that we sent you messages checking up on you every hour we care about you. Don't you dare convince yourself we don't"
Shuri cuts in again "jealousy isn't cute on you you're quick to get violent because of it but baby we don't want that girl." Shuri does a bit of an American accent causing you to crack a smile. "She can't compare to your little crazy self" Shuri continues kissing over your face Riri laughs "yeah she's right about that you almost took Sheila out with a lamp because she was in our room."
You shrug "well you said it. It is OUR room." Riri smiles and presses a kiss to your temple "yes it's our room and nobody else is coming in." Shuri nods in agreement "nobody no matter how pretty or how more mature" you slowly turn your head towards Shuri and slap her knee with so much force sending a stinging sensation to both you and her. "Ahhish I'm sorry I was just playing I was just playing" Riri laughs and slaps your leg for hitting her "so you want to get fucked up too?" Riri hops up and starts jumping like a character in Street Fighter which makes you laugh. "Bring it on then shorty." Riri straight faces you annoyance quickly builds up on her face "I don't fucking like you" you smile and shrug "guess what? I don't care." Riri can't help but smile and Shuri just sits on the bed watching you both go back and forth. "abafazi bam (my wives.)"
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The following days you don't so much as hear from Sheila so when you walk into the lab and see her you're unfazed. Both Shuri and Riri approach you as you give them their lunch Shuri picks you up and kisses down your neck "hey c'mon now" Riri pushes her shoulder forcing her to put you down so Riri can press a firm kiss to your lips. Sheila doesn't do so much as look in your direction while they both dote on you when you're finished you sit on the edge of the lab tables and smile to yourself before saying "hi Sheila I hope you're having a lovely day." Is this petty? Yes does it make you feel so much better? Yes.
A/n: hopefully this fulfills your wish anon I tried at best to also make this humorous. Truth be told when I get jealous I get violent, not silent. Enjoy.
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queenshelby · 8 months
Text
Forbidden Desire (Part 16)
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)
Warnings: Incest, Smut
Please comment and engage xx 😘
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As Tommy walked downstairs, he was greeted by his cousin Michael and an inspector who was unfamiliar to him. 
"Michael," he greeted curtly, nodding slightly in acknowledgment of the stranger.
"Good morning, Thomas," Michael returned politely, stepping aside to allow the inspector to follow Tommy into his office. 
"You are Mr. Thomas Shellby?" the Inspector queried, glancing at the paperwork in front of him.
"I am sure you already know who the fuck I am, eh?" Tommy chuckled.  
"Please sit down, Inspector." he then offered a seat to his guest. Settling down across from him, he sized up the man. From what little he could discern from the brief introductions, the detective appeared to be relatively young—likely eager to make a name for himself with a high-profile case like this.
"So, tell me, why exactly are you here?" Tommy asked casually, leaning forward in his chair, intimidating the inspector slightly. 
The inspector hesitated, examining his notes once more before answering. "There have been a series of murders occurring recently," he began, attempting to strike a balance between formality and informality. "All victims share connections to various factions within the city and all of them had also been employed by one of your companies," He paused momentarily, his gaze steady.
"One such murder happened just yesterday evening, and another today early morning. Both occurred at a significant distance from our territory – indicating a wider area of interest for the perpetrator(s). We believe these incidents may be linked somehow," the inspector explained. 
"Listen carefully pal, my family owns ninety percent of all businesses in fucking Birmingham. So, of course these men were employed by us. There is only a slim chance for them not be one of our employees," Tommy expressed clearly, his tone serious and direct. The inspector looked steadfast, his demeanor calm yet cautious.  
"Mr. Shellby, it would greatly aid our investigation if you could provide names of those known to have had dealings with the deceased within your organisation," he requested firmly just as Polly Gray came barging through the door with the intend to put an end to the meeting she had overhead part of earlier. Her face flushed with anger, her hands tightened into fists.
She had only just found out who was behind this all, trying to take up their family bond and, with concrete evidence in her hands, she snapped. 
"This meeting is over and you, inspector, need to go back to London and investigate this," Polly snarled, presenting a file to him containing all necessary proof proving Liam's involvement in the crimes. Tommy raised an eyebrow, surprised by Polly's swift reaction.
Seeing this, the inspector rose slowly, gathering his papers and folders without uttering a word. 
"My understanding is that, last night, Liam O'Connor was shot dead by an unknown perpetrator and, whilst he was employed by Shelby Company Limited, he acted upon his own volition when carrying out these crimes. WE had nothing do with this," Polly concluded confidently, standing tall despite her emotional turmoil. 
 "Well... that doesn't change the fact that multiple individuals connected to your company have died suspiciously," the inspector retorted sharply, refusing to back down. However, seeing the undeniable evidence provided by Polly Gray, he relented marginally. 
 "Very well," he finally conceded but, before departing, he turned to address Tommy and his cousin.
"Just bear in mind Mr Shelby that, by the time the elections come around, your organisation's involvement in illegal activities will be thoroughly scrutinised," the inspector warned, and, with that, he left the room, leaving a heavy cloud of unease among the trio.
"Tom, I had nothing to do with this. You must believe me," Michael pleaded as soon as the three of them were on their own.
"It wasn't me who helped Liam," he went on to say and his mother stepped in.
"No, it wasn't you, Michael. It was Finn. He took it upon himself to bring you down Tommy and, because he isn't smart enough to do so on his own, he got involved with Liam O'Connor and another member of your gang. Unfortunately, jealousy over your own fucking niece made you too blind to see this as all you could think about was Liam making a moving on Y/N," Polly revealed. "And how typical! For someone like you to think with your cock," she continued sarcastically. Tommy didn't respond directly to her accusation but instead glared at her.
Anger flared in Tommy's eyes as he considered Polly's words. This entire situation was becoming increasingly messier, complicated further by the complex web of lies and betrayals.
"What about Finn? Where the fuck is he, eh?" Tommy seethed, rubbing his temples before he paced around the room, frustration simmering beneath the surface. His mind raced through possible scenarios, wondering how far Finn could possibly have gone in order to sabotage him.
"He won't get away with this," he muttered under his breath, clenching his jaw.
"I dealt with him myself," Polly affirmed defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest in a show of determination. 
"Dealt with him how?" Tommy asked, his curiosity piqued despite his growing anger. 
"He is gone, that's all that matters right now," Polly replied brusquely, unwilling to discuss further details of her encounter with Finn. 
Tommy grunted noncommittally, unsatisfied with the answer but knowing better than to push Polly any further on the matter. Instead, he changed the subject abruptly.
"How much does the inspector really know about Liam's death?" he asked  cautiously, causing Polly to shake her head.
"Not enough to cause problems," Polly informed him reassuringly.
"What you need to concentrate on now are the upcoming elections, which involves doing the right fucking thing by Lizzie and stop fucking your own niece. I can smell her perfume on you even from here," Polly scoffed, turning her nose upward in disgust. 
"Why don't you let us worry about our personal lives, eh?" Tommy snapped back harshly, annoyed by Polly's intrusion into his private affairs even though he knew that, if Arthur would find out, he would be furious. 
"Because Tommy, when it comes to our world, everyone's life affects everyone else.
Your decisions echo throughout the whole community, regardless of whether people care to admit it or not," Polly added solemnly, a hint of sympathy masking her previously fierce facade.
"Your relations with Y/N reflect poorly on your leadership skills, especially considering the forthcoming elections and, if you want to maintain control during these challenging times, you should focus on improving your reputation rather than destroying what's left of it," Polly said before, with these final words, she exited the room, leaving the two men alone. Silence hung heavily in the air, punctuated only by the ticking clock and Tommy's labored breathing.
"You know my mother is right Tommy, don't you?" Michael interjected nervously, looking at his cousin imploringly. 
"Of course, I know she is right," Tommy agreed reluctantly, breaking eye contact with Michael as he thought about Polly's warning. Tommy knew that, realistically, he could not be with you, regardless of how much he wanted to and, with this in mind, he came up with a plan.
"Y/N should take over the export division in Boston," Tommy suggested, causing Michael to nod in agreement, knowing that this would keep you away from him and allow him to think clearly. 
Tommy's voice held no trace of emotion when he said the words while yet, deep inside, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness at the prospect of losing you. He knew how much it meant to him to have you close, physically and otherwise, yet it seemed impossible to continue having this secret relationship with you.
Thus, Tommy decided it was best for you to leave town until things settled down and, much to your despair, when you were told days later about the plan for you to leave, you could hardly argue against it. You knew why Tommy needed space from you and, you were willing to give him exactly that for the sake of your family.
Your entire relationship with him was condemned. He was your uncle after all and, despite wanting desperately to protest, you understood where they were coming from. It was important for him to win the elections and it was even more important for your father not to find out the truth. 
***
Therefore, within two weeks, you packed up your belongings and made your way to America with a view to start a new life. 
Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you realized how lonely these months or years apart might feel. You knew that this was the end and, even though Tommy promised to visit you, this time never came. He never visited you in Boston during those long, solitary eleven months abroad and neither did he call you. He always had Polly make contact with you when business matters had to be discussed and not once did you receive a letter from him.
Your heart ached as memories of tender moments spent together flashed through your mind, bringing tears unbidden to your eyes. The distance between you grew more pronounced each day, and it felt as though something vital had vanished from your existence. In spite of the passage of time, the pangs of loneliness remained ever-present, lingering in the depths of your soul.
The painful reminder of your love affair brought a wave of regret. Regret for allowing yourself to become entangled in such a dangerous game of passion. Each time you closed your eyes, you saw his piercing gaze, felt his rough touch on your skin, and remembered the way his body moved above yours.
Memories of intimate encounters surfaced unexpectedly, triggering an irresistible yearning that threatened to consume you completely. Days passed by with the weight of your absence growing heavier and heavier, a constant reminder of everything you once shared but lost along the way.
And then, one day, you received a telegram containing a message you had not expected and which shook you to the core.
It was an invitation to Tommy's and Lizzie's wedding in Birmingham and, as the news sank in, your pulse quickened, and a rush of blood coursed through your veins.
Although the eleven months since you had parted ways had dulled some of the pain associated with the separation, this announcement reignited old wounds, awakening raw emotions that you hadn't experienced in quite some time. Your palms began sweating profusely, hands trembling as you reached for the bottle of whiskey sitting nearby. Taking a large swig, you winced slightly at the burn running down your throat.
Grabbing a cigarette, you lit it hastily, taking a moment to compose yourself. How could this happen? After everything that transpired, why would he ask you - someone whom he loved dearly - to witness his marriage to Lizzie? This sudden revelation shook you to your core, stirring a concoction of bitterness, resentment, and confusion within you.
Unwittingly, you found yourself caught up in a whirlwind of emotions – the intensity of which was almost suffocating.
There was anger, frustration, jealousy, sorrow, and, most disturbingly, an insatiable desire that refused to be quelled. As the reality of the situation dawned upon you, you vowed that you wouldn’t attend the ceremony. But somewhere deep inside, you couldn’t help hoping for just one last glimpse of Tommy… just one last chance to prove that nothing had truly changed.
As you mulled over the decision, weighing the pros and cons, your mind drifted elsewhere as your maid, Sarah, entered the room.
"I think he is hungry ma'am," she commented softly while carrying a small bundle of joy wrapped carefully in linen cloth.
"He has a good appetite that's for sure," you acknowledged as you took another sip of your drink while admiring the baby's tiny fingers pointing straight at you.
"Pass him here, please," you told your maid gently and with a smile. "Let me feed him before he tears down the house with his mighty screams," you chuckled before Sarah placed him gently in your arms. His warmth filled the void within you temporarily, soothing your turbulent emotions.
Gazing down at your son's face, you noticed its striking resemblance to his father.
Every feature mirrored the essence of Tommy, right down to the shape of his lips and the blue of his eyes. Feeling an odd mix of tenderness and vulnerability, you rocked the little boy slowly back and forth, careful not to jostle him too roughly.
"So you think we should go back home for a little bit, hmm?" you asked your baby-boy lovingly. Giving a light kiss on his forehead, you continued to cradle him in your arms. His sweet laughter warmed your heart, giving you strength amidst the chaos enveloping your life. With each passing minute, your resolve weakened, and eventually, you accepted the invitation, hoping against hope that seeing Tommy again would provide closure.
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yourfavoritebookclub · 8 months
Text
WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction
CHAPTER 16
Hours later, I walk through the secret tunnel to the flight field with Garrick and Bodi. Another successful weapons drop completed. The night air is crisp, the day ending as peacefully as it began. There’s a light breeze that has me tempted to go back to Sgaeyl and lazily soar until the sun peeks out from the horizon. But I’m dead on my feet. My mind aches from the constant overexertion. 
Even my power has limits. 
A deep, guttural roar fills my mind, freezing me in place for a moment.
“XADEN MOVE, NOW!” Sgaeyl’s voice booms through my mind, and I break into a run, flying past Bodi and Garrick without explanation.
“Violet?” I ask, jaw clenched as I fly down the hall, shadows shoving me forward.
I can hear Garrick and Bodhi’s footsteps behind me as they sprint down the hall after me.
“Faster, Xaden. There are unbonded in her room.” She says it calmly, her tone going back to her usual commanding softness, but she used my first name, an immediate tell that she is far from calm.
I will my shadows to push faster, pulling more from the cracks and crevices around me, hoarding them as I prepare for whatever situation I’m about to walk into.
My stomach bottoms out. 
What will I find? 
When I enter that room, what will I find? She can’t be dead; I would know by now. 
Or…also be dead.
I push towards Violet's door, shoving shadows into it with enough force that it slams open, wood splintering as it hits the stone wall. 
I sweep into the room, and I take in the sight of Violet pressed against Oren, his knife tip poised to slit her throat. 
Before my shadows can do more than twitch, Violet is in front of me.
I blink in shock. She didn’t appear to move, and yet she went from being trapped in Oren’s hold to standing in front of me. It’s like she was dropped down without moving a muscle. 
I snap my fingers, summoning mage lights. I want them to see me clearly as I kill them. 
I examine the group of unbonded cadets. 
“You’re all fucking dead.” 
There’s something unfamiliar leaking into my veins. Every thought shoved behind an almost possessive, instinctual level of protection. Violet is mine, and I will gladly kill anyone who threatens her.
Every head in the room turns.
“Riorson!” Oren’s eyes go wide and his knife clatters to the floor. 
“You think surrendering will save you?” My rage has tempered into something calm, a smoldering fire, as my mind focuses on the shadows that are quietly winding their way around the room.
Oren puts his hands up in surrender, “But you know he never should have bonded her! You, of all people, have reason enough to want the weakling dead. We’re just correcting a mistake.”
My rage flares into something bright and lethal. “Dragons don’t make mistakes.”
 The shadows swirl on the ground, so silent that the unbonded are unaware of the death that rapidly approaches. 
 The shadows snap up so fast that no one registers what’s happened. They curl themselves around every assailant, twisting up their throats and tightening until their faces turn purple and their bodies go limp.
In unison the bodies fall to the floor with a muffled thud. 
My eyes flicker with satisfaction as their bodies fall to the floor. A punishment befitting the crime.
And I am the executioner.
Oren is the only one still standing.
I walk forward, each slow step quiet against the wood floor. My rage has turned into a living thing that’s trying to claw its way out of my chest.
There’s a palpable fear rolling off of Oren, his earlier posturing crumbling as a single tendril of shadow lifts Violet’s dagger off the floor.
“Let me explain,” he begs.
“I’ve heard everything I need to hear,” I say, my voice quiet and even. 
The dagger drops into my waiting palm. 
My fingers curl around the hilt and Oren’s breath hitches. “She should have killed you in the field, but she’s merciful. That is not a flaw I possess.” 
I flick the knife across his throat, a red line blooming in its wake before the blood begins pouring from his jugular.
He scrabbles for his throat, his hands growing slick with blood before he drops into a heap on the floor.
I can feel Garrick behind me as he slides to a stop at the door, “Damn, Xaden,” he says, looking over the carnage. “No time for questioning?” There’s a touch of confusion in his voice as his eyes scan the room, noting. 
It is atypical for me. This messy, brutal killing. Garrick knows I'm efficient, that I kill quickly, but I’m far more methodical, clean, and precise when I have to kill. 
“No need for it,” I counter quickly, turning to Bodhi as he crosses the threshold.
Violet burst into a laughter tinged with subtle hysteria and all three of us look at her like she’s completely lost it.
She’s in shock.
I curse myself for not thinking about it sooner. She needs to get out of this room, but first I need to see where she’s hurt. Make sure she hasn’t sustained any injuries too severe.
“Let me guess,” Bodhi says, rubbing the back of his neck, “we’re on cleanup?”
I nod. “Call in help if you need it.”
They both walk farther into the room, pick up a body, and silently walk out.
“I'm alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.” Violet’s voice is a panicked whisper in my mind.
“Yes. You’re alive.” I bend over, yanking one of her daggers out of a first-year’s shoulder.
“I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.” Her voice trembles slightly on that last word, and I look over at her, not bothering to correct her. 
Violet’s face has gone a sickly shade of green; her lips pressed together in a tight line as her body begins shaking.
I quickly rummage through her drawers, snatching up a set of clean clothes before grabbing her boots and cloak from the wall hook.
“It’s the shock,” I say absentmindedly, my mind sorting through what needs to be done. “Are you hurt?”
Her breathing has turned jagged, stilted as the pain has settled, the adrenaline fading.
Now is not the time for a breakdown. “Come on, Violence.” I walk over towards her, dropping her boots on the floor and throwing her cloak on the armchair to free my hands. “Pull your shit together and tell me where you’re hurt.” She looks down at the floor pulling in shallow breaths. 
I cup her chin in my thumb and index finger, tilting her gaze up towards me. Our eyes lock and panic floods through me as I look into her eyes. 
I was so close to losing it all. 
I was so close to losing her today.
I shove the panic out of my mind, a solid wall springing up to keep it from returning.
“You’re breathing like crap, so I’m guessing it has to do with–”
“My ribs,” she says, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “The one by the bed hit the side of my ribs with the sword, but I think they’re just bruised.”
“Must have been a dull sword.” I raise an eyebrow. “Unless it has something to do with why you sleep in your leather vest.”
She hesitates and then turns, lifting her arm up to expose a hole in the bodice of her nightdress.
“It’s dragon-scale. Mira made it for me. It’s why I’ve lived this long.”
I feel a pang of annoyance at her words. Her constant downplaying of her skill sets and her inability to believe that she is fully capable will be what gets her killed more than anything.
I nod. “Ingenious, though I’d say there are multiple reasons for why you’ve made it this far.” 
I give her another once over, cataloging every injury. 
My stomach twists as I glance at the purple fingerprints sprawled across her neck, and I have to swallow the fear and anger that have started to follow me wherever I go. “I should’ve killed him slower.”
“I’m fine.” 
I raise my eyes to meet hers, glaring. “Never lie to me.” I grit my teeth. 
I am at the edge of a cliff I don’t want to be on.
“It hurts,” she admits quietly.
“Let me see.”
She opens and shuts her mouth twice. “Is that a request or a demand?”
This gods damn woman. 
“Your pick as long as I get to see if that fucker broke your ribs,” I ground out.
Conan and Eoin walk into the room, Garrick and Bodhi behind them. 
“Take these two, and we’ll get the last ones,” Garrick orders, slinging two of the limp bodies over his shoulder before they all walk out the door.
“Thank you,” I call after them. 
I shut the door with a flick of my fingers and turn to Violet. “Now, let me see your ribs. We’re wasting time.”
She swallows audibly and nods. She turns her back to me and shrugs out of her nightgown just enough to expose her back.
The dragon-scale armor is impeccably made, the strings of the corset allowing it to mold to the exact shape of Violet’s body. 
“You’ll have to–”
“I know how to handle a corset,” I cut her off. My mind has become a tangle of unrelenting thoughts as I realize that I’m about to undress this woman. 
I grit my teeth, trying to shove down the hunger that’s coursing through me at the sight of the silver strands of her hair hanging in loose waves down the middle of her back.
I keep my hands steady, slipping her hair out of the way.
I brush my fingertips over her bare shoulder, relishing in the soft warmth radiating off of her skin.
Her breath hitches at my touch, and I remind myself again that I’m the monster in her story. I am not someone capable of giving her what she deserves. And Violet’s certainly not someone who should want me the way I do her.
Even if I can sometimes see that same hunger reflected in her own eyes. 
The energy in the room has become a living thing, a flow of electricity and heat that’s sucking all of the oxygen from the air.
“How the hell do you get yourself into this thing every morning?” I ask, continuing to pull at the corset strings. My voice is low and raspy, and I swallow the lump in my throat,  in an attempt to break the tension that’s radiating between our bodies. 
“I’m freakishly flexible. It’s part of the whole bones-snapping, joint-tearing thing,” she answers over her shoulder. 
She looks up over her shoulder at me, and the sliver of space between us goes taut. 
I look away before I can do anything stupid. 
I’m checking her for injuries, not trying to fuck her.
My mind wants to wander at the thought, and I rein in my overactive imagination. 
I lower my gaze, and any sexual desire I’m feeling eddies out of my mind as I take in her ribs, a large angry bruise covering her right side. 
I glide my fingers across each bone, prodding gently as I deduce how much pain she’s in.
There are no protrusions from broken bones or an extreme level of pain response, thank the Gods. “You have one hell of a bruise, but I don’t think they’re broken.”
“That’s what I thought. Thank you for checking.” There’s genuine gratitude in her voice. I lace her corset up quickly so I’m not tempted to stroke my fingers over every inch of bare skin.
“You’ll live. Turn around.” 
Violet turns, pulling her nightdress up her shoulders.
I bend down onto my knees, and she stiffens imperceptibly. It takes every ounce of willpower not to look up at her from my position on the floor and read whatever’s on her face.
“You’re going to have to walk through the pain, and we have to do it fast.” I reach over to grab her boot, then tap on her foot. “Can you lift it up?” 
She lifts her foot for me, and I slip on her boots, lacing them up tightly.
Standing, I grab her cloak off of the armchair. “Let’s go.” I wrap the cloak around her stiff shoulders, standing in front of her to button the collar like wrapping her in this extra layer might protect her further. 
My gaze lingers on her face as I reach around to grasp the hood of her cloak, fingers brushing over her hair. There’s an almost uncontrollable need to run my hands through the silver strands. My fingers twitch imperceptibly and I blink away the impulse, tugging her hood over her head and obscuring her hair from sight. 
I grasp her hand, curling my fingers over hers, and tug her out of the room. The hallway is dead quiet.
Violet’s voice permeates the silence. “Where are we going?”
I cut my eyes at her, annoyed. “Keep talking loud enough for the others to hear, and someone will stop us before we get anywhere.”
“Can’t you just hide us in the shadows or something?”
“Sure, because a giant black cloud moving down the hallway isn't going to look more suspicious than a couple sneaking around.” The word is out of my mouth before I can realize what I’ve said.
Couple.
There’s something so normal in our easy banter, in the way we fall into step together, hands clasped between us, that made the word bubble up to my lips. Two people liking each other, both claiming the other out in the open.
A far cry from the current reality we’re in where Violet is covered in bruises, and there are bodies that haven’t even gone cold, and she hates me, and she’s my sworn enemy, and a dozen other reasons it’s not possible.
The scuff of our boots is the only sound as we round the corner of the academic wing. Violet starts to turn left, and I have to tug her arm to redirect her towards the steps leading down to storage. 
She trails behind me, keeping quiet until we reach the passageway hidden in the stone wall.
I conjure a bit of power, revealing the door with a click, and swing it open to reveal a dark tunnel 
“Holy shit,” she whispers. 
“Hope you’re not afraid of the dark,” I tease in a whisper, pulling her inside. The door closes and the space around us descends into pure darkness. 
“But just in case you are,” my voice returns to a regular volume, and with a quick snap of my fingers, mage lights pop up above our head, illuminating the tunnel. “Thanks.” Violet sighs in relief.
I drop her hand and walk deeper into the tunnel at a brisk pace. “Keep up,” I order over my shoulder.
“You could–” Violet starts before her breath hitches in obvious pain, “be a little more considerate.” 
“I’m not going to baby you like Aetos does,” I scoff, my back still to her. “That’s only going to get you killed once we get out of Basgiath.”
“He doesn’t baby me.”
“He does, and you know it. You hate it, too, if the vibe I’m picking up on is any indication.” 
I slow my pace anyway, falling back to walk by her side. “Or did I read that wrong?”
“He thinks this place is too dangerous for someone…like me, and after what just happened, I’m not sure I can really argue with him.” Violet’s voice fades for a heartbeat, lost in thought. “I don’t think I’ll bother sleeping again.” She shoots an accusatory look at me. “And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on–”
 I scoff, shutting that visual down before my imagination can start to unravel. “Hardly. I don’t fuck-first years–even when I was one–let alone…you.”
“Liar.” Sgaeyl’s voice whispers through my head. 
“Are you fucking serious right now? You’ve been quiet for the last hour, and you want to jump into the conversation now?” 
Sgaeyl,chortles.
“Who said anything about fucking?” She fires back, her face wrinkling with disgust. “I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.”
“Masochist, huh?” The corner of my mouth quirks into a smirk. Violet isn’t too far from being a Masochist, really. A fact I am too willing to play with.
My mind is filthy.
“You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.” She smiles, and my chest expands at the realness of it. “Unless you’re worried about me killing you while we sleep. 
Violet, her body on top of mine, straddling my sleeping body, a dagger pointed at my throat pops into my mind. I’d like to pretend that the image of it doesn’t have my heart racing.
The hard on pressing against the waistband of my flight leathers begs to differ. 
“Do you need to be reminded again, my Shadow?
I blink once, turning the subject towards something other than the idea of sleeping with Violet.
“I have zero concern about that. As violent as you are and skilled with those daggers, I’m not even sure you could kill a fly. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you managed to wound three of them and never went for a kill shot.” I give her a look, my eyes narrowing in disapproval. 
She doesn’t meet my eyes, “I’ve never killed anyone.” Violet says in a breathy whisper.
“You’re going to have to get over that. All we are after graduation are weapons, and it’s best if we’re honed before leaving the gates.”
She looks up at me, eyes wide. “Is that where we’re going? Are we leaving the gates?” 
“We’re going to ask Tairn what the hell just happened.” the anger that I’d pushed down is bubbling up to the surface. “And I’m not talking about the attack. How the hell did they get past your locks?”
She gives me a halfhearted shrug, keeping her eyes ahead.
“We’d better figure it out so it doesn’t happen again. I refuse to sleep on your fucking floor like some kind of guard dog.
“Wait. This is another way to the flight field?”
“Yes. It’s not common knowledge. And I’m going to ask you to tuck this little tunnel into the file of secrets you keep on my behalf.”
She glances up, giving me a knowing look. “Let me guess, and you’ll know if I tell?”
“Yes.” I smile at the back and forth between the two of us. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her gazing up at me, but before I can turn to look at her, she’s turned her head back to face forward.
“Are you going to promise me another favor?” Her breathing grows stilted and labored as the path steadily inclines. 
“Having one of my favors is more than enough, and we’ve already reached mutually assured destruction status, Sorrengail.” Now, can you push through it, or do you need me to carry you?” I ask in mock concern as she starts to lag behind
“That sounds like an insult, not an offer.” Violet scowls up at me.
“You’re catching on.” I hit back but slow my pace until I’m walking by her side.
Her face has gone pale, and a cold sweat is starting at her temples. Her head and shoulders sway as if a gust of wind has blown past her. Her steps turn wobbly and slow.
I wrap my arm around Violet’s waist, pulling her against me. She makes no objections, allowing me to help steady her shaking body.
“What were you doing tonight anyways?”
“What makes you ask?” I counter, my voice turning into a warning.
“You made it to my room within minutes, and you’re not exactly dressed for sleeping.” She glances at the sword strapped against my back.
“Maybe I sleep in my armor, too”
“Then you should pick more trustworthy bedmates.” 
I snort, stifling a laugh. I can’t control the grin that spreads across my face at this woman in front of me. She plays with me; she takes what I throw at her and hurls it back with her full might. She irritates me, she turns me on, she–
My smile vanishes in a heartbeat. 
The unkind reality of it all is that she is Violet Sorrengail, and I am Xaden Riorson. 
She hates me, and I want to kill her.
And it couldn’t be farther from the truth.
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