#sorry about the cropping; i had to screen record
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Acquainted (Red Velvet Yeri)
(Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.)
You’re just about ready to head off to sleep when you check the group chat. This is your nightly tradition. These strangers, now your closest friends despite the anonymity, are active and in good spirits, as usual. Outside of your weekday 9-to-5, these few moments are the most interesting parts of your day, and you just so happen to join during a particularly lively conversation:
> [22:48:01] yerimiese: (posts a link to a red velvet album article)
> [22:48:14] flutter mane: :sanapog:
> [22:48:23] silksong sulker: k-pop is saved
> [22:48:33] wonyoung cockjuicer: ew red velvet
> [22:48:37] wonyoung cockjuicer: wonyoung can peg me tbh
> [22:48:39] irene’s tokki: Bae J:floshedjiggle::floshedjiggle:hyun
> [22:49:06] milf hunter: :floshed:
> [22:49:11] milf hunter: gape sugalo
So of course, you chime in as well.
> [22:50:12] You: lets get it, new rv fancams
You’re in no mood to chat for longer than five minutes, but before you head offline, you receive a private message from your closest friend:
> yerimiese: so when are you in korea again?
> You: Next week, why?
> yerimiese: nice. why don’t we meet up, that would be dope as fuck
> You: You’re in Korea?
> yerimiese: yeaaaah? why wouldn’t i be?
> You: I thought you’d be doing other schedules abroad
> yerimiese: nah sm definitely won’t fly us out to film an mv. cheap ass bastards ㅋㅋㅋ
Yerimiese then sends you a video link. It’s a Yeri fancam, her weapon of choice. Your conversations began with small, intimate talks about your personal life, soon transpiring into open fapping, degrading, and casual lewdness with each other. Despite the usually depraved nature of your messages, you both continued sharing snippets of your day to day lives. That’s how close you’ve grown as friends.
> You: Well i’m very tired, today was a long day at work, had to work overtime. No time to lewd, sorry
> yerimiese: it's alright. you did well today
Yerimiese sends you a pic this time. It’s an event; the internet can’t load any quicker. You’re hungry, impatient, dying. Whether it’s intentional or not, the photos she sends whenever you’re tired or stressed out are hotter than her usual swimsuit or photoshoot reel. You’ve shared enough about your daily routine to her that a camera crew might as well be recording you.
It’s nothing out of the ordinary; a simple candid pic of herself lying in bed, her face perfectly cropped out of the background, showing nothing but her body on full display in front of the huge mirror, dressed in skimpy black panties and a white shirt that accentuates her shapely breasts. As usual, she’s not wearing a bra; you can clearly see her hard nipples demanding all of your attention.
> yerimiese: no need to send a dick pic tonight if you don’t feel like doing it
You can’t help it. Tired as you are, you feel obligated to send her one. Luckily, every pic she sends is more than enough to make you instantly hard. It feels more guilty not to be turned on, rather.
It’s a mostly quick and painless affair, powerful enough to put you out of commission within minutes. Even though you’re mentally checked out, Yerimiese’s sexy body is too hot not to crank one out. Taking a pic of your erect cock as you pump yourself to her is second nature; sending it on sticky fingers after you’ve spurted all over your phone and blankets is a different story. There’s no other way to put it, she was the perfect reprieve from the day’s exhaustions—a perfect high note to go out on.
> yerimiese: fuck you’re THROBBING THROBBING tonight :ningasm: your dick looks so damn nice. i can taste your cum through the screen
> You: Happy now?
> yerimiese: more than, and then some. I wish you were here right now so you could feel how wet I am
> You: Just wait. I can’t wait to fuck you hard. Goodnight
> yerimiese: goodnight
> yerimiese: :tukkwithkiss:
—————
The next time you’re able to communicate with her, you’re one day away from being in Korea. In that period, you’ve been inactive in the group chat because work. What welcomes you back is a barrage of lewd photos and Yeri fancams.
> yerimiese: see you tomorrow :chuupeek:
It’s an open secret that you know she’s Kim Yerim. Yes, that Kim Yerim of Red Velvet fame. It was a giveaway right from the first explicit photo she sent you; those tits in a tight, petite package couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than hers. That, and the fact that her username is the same as her Instagram handle, and that she has a photo of herself in the group as a display pic. How she would end up stumbling into your private K-pop server objectifying her body and her profession is one of life’s biggest mysteries, yet here she is, giving you a very personal look into her shapely figure, better than any fancam and photoshoot could ever provide. To others, she’s merely a casual acquaintance, but to you, she can freely open up herself.
Mainly because you’re one of three people in the group chat that still cares about Red Velvet.
Her latest sent photo is relatively tame; a tight fitting white silk sundress, and the skirt is virtually nonexistent, her panties practically out in the open. Luckily for you, she seems to be sitting down, but not in her usual living room. The notion that this is what welcomes you to Korea, that you’ll be balls deep inside an idol’s pussy right when you land—it ruins you.
Almost.
An airport guard manages to break your deep train of thought. “Sir! No phones please,” he sternly commands, saving you from total disaster; you’re inches away from walking straight through a metal detector with your phone in hand, the belt around your pants, and some spare coins lying deep in your pocket after you bought some traditionally expensive bottled water. Luckily, no one manages to see the photo—and even if they did, she’s still smart enough to cut out her face, leaving nothing else to your imagination.
If there’s one thing you’ve learned about immigration and airport security, it’s that there’s little need for repetition. You go through security four times. At the entrance, after the check-in counter, then within your departure gate, and even before boarding your flight—repetitive. It’s frustrating enough to tell Yerim, to which she responds with more lewd photos of herself.
> yerimiese: yeah ive been there before ㅋㅋㅋ
> yerimiese: how long’s ur flight?
> You: About 13 hours
> yerimiese: cali?
> You: Yes
> yerimiese: kinda random, but seulgi misses los angeles
> You: How come?
> yerimiese: something about an ex-boyfriend that i didn’t know about until the other day ㅋㅋㅋ i bet she’ll be jealous when she hears about you coming over just to clap my cheeks ㅋㅋㅋ she’d wish it was her bf instead of you
> You: does she know about this?
> yerimiese: of course not LOL i bet you’d rather fuck her instead of me, so she’ll never know. smh.
> You: That’s not true ur my RV bias since day one!
> yerimiese: stop lying LMAO i don’t blame you tho seulgi has some really toned legs and a nice slappable ass XD anyway, i’m gonna send you something to pass the time while ur onboard
> You: If it’s a masturbating clip i swear to god
> yerimiese: fuck you got me LOL
> You: Goddamit if anyone finds out on a plane of all places…
> yerimiese: i still can’t get over your clip of you jerking to me. i can taste your dick. you’re depriving me by leaving me out to dry for a week ㅋㅋㅋ
> You: You’ve been touching yourself to that clip for a week??
> yerimiese: can’t help myself, album prep has been tiring and i haven’t really found any opportunity to relax in the meantime
> You: I’ll be there soon, just wait a bit longer
> yerimiese: can’t trust me with that, i’m very close to making a huge mess of my hotel room ㅋㅋㅋ
> You: You’re in a hotel?
> yerimiese: just to meet you! I won’t be able to meet you at the airport (duh, idol dating shit), so this is the next best thing. just message me when you’ve landed here, okay?
> You: Sure
—————
It’s ingrained deep within Yerim’s mind. A core memory. If her phone could present count how many times she’s played the clip, it would be over a thousand.
It’s very straightforward. A 45 second clip of someone masturbating between the sheets, pressing their erect cock against their phone with a brightened image of a scantily clad woman on the screen. But it’s not just any woman, it’s her. She’s pleasuring herself to the idea of a man jerking off to her. She’s following his rhythm, timing the pace her fingers rub her clit to the tempo of the man’s cock pumping to her zoomed-in breasts.
And she’s mere minutes removed from a conversation with that exact same person.
Slumped against the hotel room walls, her bliss spirals out of control rapidly. Her legs are instinctively spread wide, juices already leaking through her panties and spilling to the floor; that’s how used they are to Yerim’s impulses to pleasure herself. In those brief moments, she imagines how the next few days play out, skipping past the formalities and pleasantries and going straight to the fucking. She moans and shouts as if that very man’s cock is penetrating her pussy hard at this very moment. Her other hand bashes the wall, tongue screaming streams of profanities, as if he’s manhandling her, using her to his personal delight.
“Fuck! Suck those fucking tits!” she screams, slipping one strap of her sundress down to pinch her own tit, enhancing the illusion. Her phone rings; in her mind it's functionally a vibrator. He’s come fully prepared, and she’s riding high knowing that this person is doing exactly what he said in their private messages from the very start.
Yerim drags her fingers along her clit violently, desperate to reach climax, the realization that this is her third orgasm of the day way beyond her. The evidence can be found everywhere: on the soiled bed sheets and in the smell of the shower; she envisions herself getting railed in those parts of the room, and then some—essentially turning the entire hotel room into the backdrop for all of the things he’d do to her: fingers around her throat, sunk into her ass, until it’s red and hurting, the way she’d quiver and cream all over his throbbing cock. Her neediness has no limits; it even breaks past her very own personal quarters, the loudness of her own self-induced pleasure drawing concern from occupants nearby.
Only after the blissful haze of orgasm does everything fall back in place. That repetitive knock on the door is a huge wake up call. Yerim’s eyes widen.
“Shit.”
She checks her fingers—they’re coated in copious amounts of slick—and after a little further inspection, she realizes the aftermath.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
—————
Being honest about yourself, you couldn’t have asked to feel hornier at a worse time than this. Thirty thousand feet high up in the air, stuck in economy class because you don’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit back in the office. Using your one of two allowed leaves in the year for a trip to see a girl you’ve mostly known online, and it isn’t even paid. To make things worse, there’s no layovers—just a point-to-point flight from San Francisco to Seoul. 13 hours.
And boy, is the ride absolutely miserable.
By what you might as well call divine intervention, you’re conveniently seated between a nun and a little girl—the two worst kinds of people to be alongside with. No, not because they’re annoying or anything like that; aside from the girl getting up every thirty minutes from her window seat to get something from her parents across the aisle, you’re practically barred access to your glorified archive of lewd Yerim pics. Opening them up with a kid barely in the first grade beside you is openly asking for trouble.
And the few times you get up for a lavatory break, you can’t get yourself going. There’s always someone at the door every five minutes.
Eight hours deep into the flight, you look over your shoulder, catch one of the male flight attendants sneak inside one of the vacant lavatories with a fellow stewardess while everyone’s fast asleep. Fucking sickening. That should be you with Yerim right now.
When you arrive on the other side of the planet, you’ve gotten only a couple hours’ worth of sleep. You almost fumble your passport at immigration, getting them mixed up with a slew of business and membership cards. Then there’s your forgetfulness working against you, remembering you need some kind of pocket Wi-Fi, and now you have to spend a little more to get back online. It’s a mess, and it wasn’t that long since you were in Europe for a seminar, where these things were merely second nature to you.
At least you remembered that VPNs exist. You message Yerim on the taxi ride out of the airport, unsure of where to begin.
> You: Just got out of immigration
> yerimiese: fuckin finally!
> yerimiese: you got a place to stay here?
> You: Not yet
> yerimiese: don’t bother, lemme send you my hotel address, you can stay here
Of course you don’t know Korean, despite the constant back and forth with Yerim for months. Learning’s been on the backend of your itinerary, and has never been your top priority, even now. You show the cab driver the address, who merely looks at you and the phone with a particularly vacant and dumbfounded expression, as if you’re stupid for not planning this out—which, in that regard, he’d be correct.
When you finally arrive at the hotel, only one message stands between you and finally meeting Yerimiese, once and for all.
> yerimiese: I’ll be at the poolside, third floor. can’t wait to meet you :P
And that’s exactly where you end up going. Forget that you’re lugging two whole bags and a traveler’s backpack on your shoulders; you drop them off at the front desk, expecting the staff to have a clue of what’s going on and what’s about to happen.
Stepping out into the poolside, it’s a completely barren sight. It’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday; most people probably aren’t even booked, let alone in this supposed five-star hotel. You don’t really question whether she’s being serious or not, the evidence was in the previously sent photos; you’re dying to meet her at this point.
And as if perfectly timed for dramatic effect, a woman emerges from beneath the waters, shaking off the wetness from her damp hair.
Yerim casually swims over the deep waters’ edge, without a care in the world, let alone your presence quietly shadowing over the large pool. Even halfway submerged, you can make out the outline of her shapely bust and hourglass figure, tightly hugged by a pink swimsuit. She was sultry and intoxicating to gawk at from candid photos, but seeing Yerimiese herself in the flesh, that’s when the realization hits you: this is happening.
And you can’t move a muscle, let alone react from the actualization that you’re right in front of her. Even as the waves of water splash on your new loafers, you simply observe. It’s creepy, it’s morally dubious, but it’s one in a million. You’re taking in every moment, every second; soak it all in, you’ll never get an experience like this ever again.
You should be friends by now, if your definition of friendship means sharing explicit body photos and exchanging devious intentions about how you’ll fuck each other online or how much cum you’ve given to each other. But when she turns in your direction—catching you casually observing her, your hands tucked away in your coat’s pocket, grinning like a little kid— it’s back to square one.
Like the very first time.
Yerim takes all the time in the world to wade over from the other side of the pool, her smile growing closer as she approaches you. She lifts her eyebrows, expecting you to make a first move, to which you barely open your mouth, and ultimately only a deep breath, a stilted sigh, comes out.
Well, this is awkward.
Yerim giggles. You’ve previously heard her loud moans and cries, but a genuine laugh—this was your first. She never hops on calls in your group chat, most likely because idol shit, as she often refers to her line of work. Her laughter, her energetic expression—it’s as perfect of a translation to real life as it is online, and embodies the idol Yeri you know on screen.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, trying—and failing—to suppress more of her laughter.
Your answer is concise, but doesn’t seem quite right. “A while.”
In reality, about five minutes. You probably won’t be there any longer when she props herself out of the water with her strong elbows. Water cascades down her shapely figure, thicker and meatier than it's ever been, more than what the cameras and pictures present. She’s truly the entire package, through and through.
She walks over to her sunlounger, granting you a nice peek of her ass peeking through her skimpy swimsuit before she wraps herself with a towel. Apart from that, your only other notable observation is that she’s soaking wet, even bundled up. That, and also: she’s barefoot. No sign of slippers or any footwear—she willingly walked on what appears to be scorching cobbled floors.
“I would give you a big hug right now, but you know—” she comments, looking down at her drenched self, pool water endlessly dripping down to her feet. Even if she isn’t soaking wet, you’d still be frozen in place, or even worse, some eagle-eyed stranger or Dispatch reporter catch you in secret and you both end up on national news the very next day.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you say, trying to dodge Yerim’s eyes. “I left my stuff at the front desk. I should probably go and grab them.”
“Smart.” Yerim sizes you up, nodding in amazement at how you’ve managed to get yourself past the entrance. “See you upstairs, then? Room 1015.”
—————
The difference between you and Yerim couldn’t be any more obvious.
Granted, you’re fresh off a 13 hour flight, followed by an hour's travel from the airport to a five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul. Yerim had all the time in the world to prepare, and yet when she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a modest bathrobe and her dark hair bundled up, she’s never looked better.
Facing an idol in such a haggard condition, it gives you an underlying feeling of shame. And if you’re being completely honest, if not for your cock, she’d probably be repulsed and call security on you.
But there's no security in sight. Just you, just yeri, the two of you standing in this room - which is, for the most part, quite nice. Multiple bedrooms, a lovely view of the city beneath you, and all sorts of amenities and features you’ll never get to use—you half expect her members to come in later, but perhaps for your sake, you’re better off with just her and her alone.
When Yerim begins to talk, she rambles. She goes on about the status of the next album, discussions about a possible solo debut, her relationships with her members—conversations about topics that you never really had online. It was mostly dirty talk and lewd captions. At best, you knew each other at a surface level, but here she is, sharing everything from her heart like you’ve been lifelong friends since day one.
You let her. She’s as charismatic as what she portrays on screen, and her sass is no different than the private messages she sends you. There’s not a single dull moment whenever Yerim speaks. Though you know her mostly for her body, her personality is what has you sticking around.
You wonder if she feels the same way about you.
“So, how’d you find out about us?” Yerim asks, after blabbering for a while, and you genuinely believe she’d keep going till nightfall. Close enough. Five minutes away from five in the afternoon, and you’d already spent the last hour and a half listening to a personalized podcast from her. You hope she doesn’t notice the plate of bulgogi on the table now completely empty.
“Well, a friend was a K-pop fan and had an extra ticket when you toured here,” you say, casually, slumped on the sofa. “Forgot how long that was—” you pause, “five years ago?”
“Five years? Five years since we went to America?” Yerim appears flabbergasted, face in utter disbelief at the passage of time. The realization causes her to stand from her chair. You’d be too after listening to her drone on endlessly. “Fuck.”
“SM! Give us a fucking world tour already!” she screams, pretending she’s inside the company building and you’re an executive in the room. Watching her snarkiness come to life never ceases to amuse you. You’ll let her go on for as long as she needs to; she’s entertaining in such a unique and charming way that it disarms you.
“Argh, sorry, you know me.” She suddenly stops, faces you, arms crossed, mocking up a pout. “Look at me suddenly losing my shit for no good reason.”
“Are your members used to this?”
That didn’t come out right.
She bats an eyelid. On her face is a mild, blank look of displeasure. That didn’t come out right.
“Used to what?”
“Well, uh, I—I mean—”
You gulp your throat.
“Stop.”
Then, an air of awkward silence. Her eyes quickly scan you, lazing on the sofa.
“Let’s just get to fucking each other right now.”
—————
It isn’t that you’ve forgotten the one purpose you’re there to begin with, it’s that Yerim is very, very impulsive. One moment, upset at her company for doing the bare minimum for her group and her career, the next she’s using you as an outlet to release her frustrations. It’s a good thing your first impression of her was that she was very busty, because otherwise, the other description you had of her was—simply put—bratty.
You’re on your back, plopped against one of the beds, completely caught off-guard by her show of strength. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you find Yerim already at the bed’s edge, loosening the belt around her waist, quickly disrobing herself within seconds. It’s nothing new; you’ve seen glimpses of her nude figure in pictures, imagined many scenarios where you’ve got your hands on her, but this—to see her completely bare in the flesh—is new.
This is different.
“Just so you know,” you mutter, frantically panting, your heart jumping, as Yerim undresses in front of you, “I haven’t actually had sex before.”
Just like that, the mood instantly changes. She stops. Abruptly.
“What?”
Her mouth drops—again. Might as well stay agape.
You consider retracting your statement. It was a joke, you’d say, something to get her even more aroused, fired up. The sex would be wilder, hotter than anything your fantasies would conjure. Then again, you wouldn’t be in this exact situation if you weren’t so chronically online, simping over pop idols like a kid about to enter puberty.
“I guess that’s to be expected,” she comments, snarkily, grabbing the edges of your pants, daring to rip them off you. “That’s fucking life, baby!”
If you were in her shoes, obsessively waiting for someone with equally unhinged horniness, expressing precisely how you’d get fucked every single time you’d send a remotely lewd photo, you’d feel just as disappointed. You can tell by her partially scornful expression: she’s been fantasizing this moment as much as you have, too. You can’t blame her, but you kind of expected her to anticipate this; after all, you connected in a private group chat that’s been sexualizing her, of all places.
Surely the signs of virginity were right there.
“At least this is real,” she says, leaning her head forward while cupping your growing bulge poking through your trousers. Your tip, at full mast, mere inches away from her chin, instead of a little phone screen. She’s pushing you around, growing slightly more mischievous and uncontrollable with the prospect of throwing someone like you around instead of the opposite. Something her members may have taught and ingrained in her.
It isn’t quite the picture you expected from all the erotic snapshots and clips she’s been sending you. Every photo and video, designed to rouse the filthiest and wildest of your thoughts, was an act, a ruse to let your guard down, to give you this fixed headcanon that you can toss her around like she’s your personal plaything and object of pleasure. Instead, she’s using you for her own desires and wants.
It’s not that you don’t want her to use you and fuck you like this, it’s how completely in control she is that has you reeling, leaves you in a dizzy spell.
“I was gonna let you use my pussy and fuck me to ruin,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, teasing and mocking. Her hand grips around the denim of your bulge, and it fucking stings. You’re sucking on loose air. “But since we have a virgin over here, I’m gonna do whatever I want.”
The implied connotation is what terrifies you, and no, it isn’t the revelation that Yerim isn’t a virgin—you assumed that much—but the notion that you were gonna have free reign over her cunt that has you contemplating some deep, long forgotten life decisions that set you back years. Their consequences are now starting to show.
She releases her ironclad grip on your pants, frees you of your obstructive clothing, both trousers and boxers down to the floor. Your hard cock springs free, terribly aching, already red and sore from her suffocating clench, and already leaking bursts of precum. The last day and a half hasn’t been kind to your cock.
To add insult to injury, she makes this licking motion with her tongue, aimed at your tip, but relents at the last minute. It leaves your throbbing cock aching harder, without any point of relief. The teasing sight almost renders you unconscious, and sends Yerim into a laughing frenzy.
“Remember when I said I could taste your cock?” she says, chuckling. It’s not playful in the slightest—quite the opposite, in fact. It’s sinister. “I’ll wait a little longer to taste it. Don’t worry.”
Not the most reassuring of words, especially when you’ve got your hands tied—at least, not yet. Actually, you appreciate that she isn’t going to milk your cock dry just yet; when you finally look past the situation at hand, you come to treasure her chest. Her shapely chest, freely bouncing while she bounces her thick body on your lap—keep doing that, you say inside your mind, letting your wandering gaze soak in the unreal scene.
She notices your intrigued eyes, rising and falling in rhythm with her tits. Subtlety was never your intention, and she probably knows from experience, as she says she does. Fixated attention is how she gets herself off, based on how she seems to respond to the lewd messages you’ve sent her in the past, and it shows when she repeats some choice remarks back to your face:
“I’d kill my boss to fuck those tits right now, you’re so goddamn sexy.”
She grips a hand around your throat, another down to the buttons of your shirt, pulling them apart.
“Let me be your personal titty towel.”
Halfway there.
“I’d suck on your tits first, go down on your delicious pussy, then fuck that wet hole of yours three times straight.”
Just like that, you’re both even. Equal in nakedness.
You’re unsure whether it’s the sight of Yerim asserting her dominance over you, tits all up in your face with a devious smirk as she bares you down to your essentials that’s leaving you short on air, or if it’s the hand cautiously coiled around your neck. Either option seems sensible enough. This is how she lives in your head rent free, just being her sassy, sexy self. Even repeating some of the same particularly questionable lewd things you’ve written to her sounds hot with her brazen tone.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she raises an eyebrow, leaning her head close, as if demanding an answer.
Really, there’s no multiple choice here. Of course you nod.
She rolls her hips upward, inches her body across yours little by little, til her dripping pussy completely shadows your view. Her hand grabs the back of your head, meaty thighs pressing between your face. Now you’re truly suffocating. Even with the rather shameful admission, she rolls her crotch on your lips, expecting you to know what to do. No words, just the expectant grind of her crotch on your face, her wet folds opening up for you to take them.
Then, she begins moaning.
Admittedly, the closest you’ve had to trying out oral is using your phone as an outlet for your tongue whenever she sends a boob photo. Thankfully, your inexperience doesn’t show when you first dip your tongue inside her folds, getting your first taste of pussy. Saltier than you expected, but fuck, you’d be lying if you think it wasn’t completely intoxicating—everything you hoped for, and more.
It incites a few expressive reactions from Yerim—some loud, others quieter—with the end result usually a sharper, deeper grind of her waist on your face, splaying her cunt for you to devour. You’ve got one hand pressed on her ass, holding her plump flesh down while the other is at her mercy, pulled by hers, forced to squeeze her breast. You won’t complain. Not when her cries of pleasure motivate you to push yourself harder.
You repeat this addictive cycle, stretch moments into minutes, minutes into hours. Even when you’ve drained her completely, you’ll still be craving for more of her; that’s how hungry she’s made you. Your tongue meets her clit, and it draws out this especially sharp whine that she’s never hit once. Not on a track. Not anywhere. She swears up a storm, juxtaposed between soft, gentle pleas of “yes, more, and you’re so good.”
In return, you take more of her, soak yourself in the continuous downpour of her slick juices freely flowing all over your mouth and tongue. As her pleasure escalates, her fingers tighten their grasp on your head, grab your tousled hair. You add soft, intimate kisses between streaks of licking her folds, and they send the young idol writhing, shaking atop you. Her words have been reduced to nothing but short, needy bursts of “please.” Even in this uncontrollable state, she gyrates her hips around you, rhythm steady, but more determined than ever to let herself go.
By the way her pussy throbs, you’re certain she’s a few critical points away from climax. It doesn’t change your plans, not one bit. You continue to lap at her sensitive folds, bask in her intoxicating heat, purposefully teasing her clit. She won’t demand that you end her —not this quickly, not when you’ve magically learned the art of giving oral to a woman under short notice.
You slowly work her through it. Your tongue dives into her slick entrance, deeper than it's ever been so far. The overpowering sensations send ripples that reach even the foundations of the bed, unlike anything it’s ever felt. Even in the wild throes of bodily pleasure, Yerim has enough willpower to stay in character, delivering a demand in her usual playful, fast talking tone. “Please do it! I’m going to cum!”
You contemplate the thought, completely drunk in her divine taste yourself, but you oblige.
Your tongue sticks to her bud, and it causes this instantaneous, elaborate chain reaction. Yerim cries a sharp cry, waves of orgasm washing down all over her body. She stops in her tracks, completely rigid, mouth wide open, and this torrential gush of slick and orgasm swamps you, drowning you so deep that it's nearly fatal. Her thighs involuntarily clench tighter, too, and you’re temporarily trapped in your own pocket dimension, impossible to clean with all the cum left behind, especially on the sheets.
The most surprising observation from her orgasm is how suddenly calm it becomes. Only the sound of your tongue licking her clean can be heard, and it’s nothing but a gentle rustle. She hangs her head up, face completely flushed, catching needed oxygen in her lungs, letting the aftermath of her climax pass over.
While her breath normalizes, she lifts herself up, moves to the side of the bed. In her wake, she’s left behind a drenched lake of slick around your face, leaking down to the muddled sheets beneath you.
“Well,” she says, panting and pausing for air. “There goes the other bed.”
It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what she meant. Even when you’re still mindlessly occupied by the sticky residue around your lips. You let out this muffled exhale, designed to be a laugh, but it backfires in your face. Amused, she giggles on your behalf.
“Not bad.” Yerim smiles at you. Charming and cute, a contrast to what had just transpired. “I thought you said you never had sex?”
It takes you a moment before you answer back, “I haven’t. You just taste really good.”
“You still have some left on the edges of your face,” she comments, her eyes mesmerized by how much she’s cum all over you. “Let me help you clean that up.”
And she helps, but not in a conventional way. She lifts you from the bed by your torso, then submerges you again, this time at the mercy of her bosom. You’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist while you’re kissing and sucking on her Yerim’s tits, not exactly tidying up, but creating a larger mess that no amount of tongue cleaning can resolve.
In the meantime, she whispers in your ear some of your more—questionable—comments:
“They need to give her a solo debut with a very sexy concept and trust me, I’ll be the guy who breaks the world record for jerking off if they do that.”
“It must feel heavy to carry them all the time. Let me lend a hand to you.”
“The only thought I had inside my mind when I saw her is every member would milk her 3x a day so that they don’t have to go outside and buy milk to eat cereal to the point they would just drink it from the source.”
You stop. You give her this strange, confused look. Even you couldn’t believe you said that.
“Did I actually say that?”
“Yes!” she replies, quick and straightforward, unable to hide her enthusiasm, while brushing your hair. “Not gonna lie, that sent me to the floor. I was laughing so hard, Irene ran in to check up on me!”
To make things worse, she flashes this wide, toothy grin that makes you regret your life choices.
“God. I don’t wanna drink anymore.”
“Hey, if there’s any consolation, you wouldn’t be sucking on my tits and eating me out now if you never made that comment,” she says, caressing your chin and giving you a peck on the lips. As if it’s still not one of the most out of pocket comments you’ve ever made about anyone, let alone a celebrity—and you weren’t fully yourself.
“Relax. Don’t think about it too much.” Yerim pushes you back down to the bed, crawls atop you, meeting your lips again for an intimate kiss. Your hard cock, which has been left unattended for quite a while, captures your attention—and especially hers. “Lean back for me, will you?”
You comply. Involuntarily, your legs straighten, but Yerim pushes them apart, places herself at center view, seemingly ready to take you in her mouth. It makes sense; a woman with a mouth that runs like hers probably only stops when there’s cock stuffed inside them. The theory proves to be plausible when she gives your sensitive tip a delicate, yet dangerous lick, her eyes glinting at you with renewed vigor and lust.
“I told you I’d have a taste of that cock,” she says, half smug, half seductive, gloating with her brows. Your tenseness slightly recedes—until you realize your cock’s moving past her lips, in the direction of the space between her cleavage. “I didn’t say I wanted to suck on it.”
And she was right—not once has she ever expressed her desire to choke, gag, deepthroat on it.
You grit your teeth, watching your cock disappear between her shapely tits, with Yerim personally making sure you comfortably fit like a glove. You fold. It’s snug. Hot. Breathtaking.
“Fuck, Yeri,” you mutter, closing your eyes as her inviting warmth leaves you weak in the knees, trembling. You don’t realize you’ve used her stage name over her real name. “God—”
“Does this feel like everything you wanted?” she asks, tone sultry and triumphant. A little slide up sends you into a frenzy.
You nod—even though there’s no other available options. The erotic image in front of you is permanently seared into your head: Kim Yerim, popular idol and to an extend, your ‘friend with benefits,’ grinning like a maniac, slowly fucking your cock between her tits, coated with your saliva, sweat, and copious amounts of precum. To think your little crude messages on a random forum would have such long term and drastic consequences such as this.
Not that you’d want to make sense of it all, especially when she gets into a rhythm. Sliding her breasts up and down, she’s delicate, intentional, and masochistic; you’re on the receiving end of how she felt when you were slowly eating her out. She’s dangerous, teetering between the line where your cock can be safe between her bosom and where she can break you in half. You’re already falling apart—and fast.
“Holy shit, Yerim. Fuck.”
Each word you deliver is long and drawn out, especially the profanities. Heavenly music to her ears. She’s out of reach where you can pull by her hair, so you settle for the sheets instead. Your gaze wanders, travels everywhere but in her direction, because you don’t need to see the tortuous scene happening between your legs. Looking at the descending sun, this is probably the last time you’ll see the sun set in your life.
Her eyes challenge you to look at anywhere from her. Panting frantically, you find yourself at the mercy of Yerim’s whims, your cock fading and swelling into view, sticky and wet, gushing cum all over her tits. The sight drives you further mad, has you making sounds that have never been recorded—ever. She takes you in, delights in your suffering, eager for you to say the magic words.
“Ready to cum? I know you want to cum.”
Even under duress, you’re not ready to fold just yet. There’s a little stubbornness inside you fighting back, pulling all the stops to keep you from surrendering to Yerim’s demands. You close your eyes, grip on the sheets even tighter, control your breathing, but it’s too little too late. You can only do so much with two hands.
“Cum for me.”
You hold onto a particularly deep breath, desperate to cling to whatever dying vestiges of control there is left, but your fate has already been sealed from the moment you’ve allowed your cock to enter her chest.
“Yerim, I—”
The exhale you release is the most relieving and satisfying. With it, comes out a rope of thick, creamy cum splashed all over her neck and chest. The aching, violent sensation doesn’t stop; more seed spills between the warmth of her cleavage. In one fell swoop, you feel all of your energy sapped from you, leaving you completely weak and powerless.
In the gap between your climax and post-orgasm haze, you wonder if she’ll take some of your cum in her mouth, with the way she looks at your cock as it throbs beneath her chin. No. She lets it drip down her perfect naked body with a sticky white sheen that glows under the natural light piercing through the hotel’s window.
“Just like that, hm,” she comments, casually flicking the last of your withering orgasm and cum with her wrist. She lathers the slick on her fingers on her shoulder, then places some into her mouth for a taste.
After you regain a semblance of normalcy—after Yerim’s finished entertaining herself with your cum, staring at her coated body and fingers with curious interest—she rests her elbows on your knees, in the process of relearning how to bend. You sink back against the headrest, watch as the fading sun glimmers on an idol like her, destined to shine for every occasion possible—on the stage and under the afterglow of sex. She smiles, bright and wide, taking you in, as you are.
There’s something brewing, especially in the tender few minutes that follow. Something special, something more than just a spark.
“So—” Yerim runs a sticky finger on your knee, dangerously close to stirring up your cock again. “You wanna try anal with me next?”
You pause. Widening your eyes, staring back with a look of disbelief. Just when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, she adds:
“Kidding. You do know that you’re gonna have to delete those tweets and comments, right? If they find out you’re here, you’re fucked. And I mean, a thousand times worse than now.”
—————
(A/N: This was an absolute joy to write. The nature of the request meant I could go very meta with it. About time we get a proper Red Velvet full album, so perfect timing! If you're able to figure out some of the references and easter eggs, then you, my friend, are too engrossed in the Tumblr K-pop male reader smut lore. Thank you for reading!)
(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)
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My favorite Going Seventeen episodes
In honor of the return of GoSe, my favorite past episodes!
2019 ep 5 Caratland Behind - Solely for DK and Jeonghan's recording of BRING IT. Jeonghan's lil "tu~rn left" was so cute but I was totally blown away by DK's angry rap. So much 'tude, possibly fiercer than the original. :0
2019 ep 17-18 Karaoke Escape Room - The moment Hoshi is dramatically drawing out the last lyrics to some random old song that they don't know and the 100 points shows up on screen and everyone absolutely loses their shit. Also, the members being relatable AF because they can't do math.
2020 ep 5-6 Past Life Destiny - Where do I even start? DK full on grinding the floor and getting up close and personal with the camera during his intro dance. JiHan's chaotic reenactment of a scene from "I'm Sorry I Love You" where Shua throws himself out of the car (not scripted). All the SeokSoon drama. As a bonus, Seungkwan sang DBSK's Hug while DK was choosing his partner and I squealed!
2020 ep 9 Insomnia Zero - Birth of Wonwoo's iconic ~tasty~ and when I learned that Woozi has no chill.
2020 ep 21-22 Kartrider - "Booster! Booster! Booster! YAH! BOOSTER!" - Hoshi failing to get a booster, 2020
2020 ep 23-24 Seventeen's Got Talent - Seventeen is so good at adlib humor, they just take the concept and go hard. Too many amazing characters! My favorites were diva judge Boo, sloth rapper Hoshi, musical actor Jun, angry ballad singer DK, robot Shua, and of course "Jun" aka mischievous Minghao.
2020 ep 25-26 The8 and the Shadows - Minghao wanted to be the leader for a day and the GoSe team gave him what he wanted... kinda lol. Favorite moments include the impromptu "We Will Rock You", DK's sogo dance, Jeonghan casually throwing water at Shua, and Shua getting everyone to imitate the voodoo doll he threw on the floor multiple times.
2020 ep 33 Mousebusters - Not so much for the actual Mousebusters part but the orange and grape games they did after. Seventeen takes games EXTREMELY SERIOUSLY.
2020 ep 40-41 Don't Lie II - Hoshi absolutely slayed this season of Don't Lie and he knows it. There's something so satisfying about seeing his chaotic thought process pan out to actually be correct.
2020 ep 44-45 TTT - I enjoy all of the TTTs but the focus on "hyperrealism" made this one even better because it seemed like the members were simultaneously more and less aware of the cameras and making content for the show. It had all of our favorite SVT pastimes - eating and drinking, badly played sports, games they've played a thousand times, and overly-enthusiastic karaoke.
2020 ep 46 Going Magazine - Minghao styled Hoshi sooooo well for the shoot, holy crap. Praise the denim crop top. And Mingyu was carrying this whole project so hard, this is when I first started to appreciate how hardworking and talented he is in other artistic ventures outside of just performing.
2021 ep 11 Ad Genius - Honestly too many meme-worthy moments to count, but my top are: Shua putting Shin Ramen in his hair, Jeonghan putting gochujang on his eyebrows, and Coups proposing to Dino with all kinds of products while Hoshi sings 2AM's "This Song" in the background.
2021 ep 24 Tribal Games - The Whispering in Silence game is probably my most rewatched Seventeen clip ever. Hoshi "epik"-ly screwing everything up makes me laugh every time.
2022 ep 37 How to Eat Rice - We must pay our respects to two members who threw away their idol image for this episode: 1) DK, the hungry rice monster, and 2) Shua, who poured a bucket of ice water over himself to prove that ramen tastes the best when you're cold. Double respects to Shua because he didn't even win after all of that lol.
2022 ep 50 GOING Radio Show - Dino going "look at my fit!" while Vernon is fighting for his life keeping his laughter in is one of the first clips I ever saw of Seventeen and it's still hilarious. The whole corner with Jeonghan and Dino learning English from Shua and Vernon was peak comedy.
Anyway, the two episodes that have been released so far have been really enjoyable! Lots of pun humor, member banter, and a surprise twist! I'm looking forward to Wednesdays now~
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Moon Goddess’ by Li Shangyin
The candlelight is flickering on my stone screen,
The Milky Way is fading, the Morning Star is falling from the sky.
Moon Goddess, are you not sorry you stole our immortal potion,
Over the blue sea and sky – seeing my lonely heart every night.
Translation Note. For Chánghé, 长河, I used the familiar term Milky Way whereas the Chinese would use Heavenly River. The similar sounding Cháng É, 嫦 娥, the Moon Goddess, is delightful.
Ye Ye Xin is hard to translate. For ye ye, 夜 夜, I come up with “every night” and “heart” for xin, 心. Then I imagine the lonely archer looking up at the sky and the moon, wishing he had been a better ruler and husband.
Well, that’s life and it is too late to deny it.
Fly Me to the Moon
Short poems like Li Shangyin’s Moon Goddess were often put to music. Can you hear the melody of the words –píngfēng, xiăoxīng, língyào, qīngtiān, that’s poetry. There is no denying it.
Similar expressions of the moon and love can be found in 20th century American music.
Moon River, a song composed by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Johnny Mercer, is a well known example. Mercer’s lyrics, “moon river, you heart breaker” captures the feeling of Li’s last line — bìhăi qīngtiān, yè yè xīn, “Blue sea, blue sky, every night can you see my heart.” Okay, some words are implied, but that is true of every poem and song. Fly Me To The Moon, “and let me float among the stars,” a dreamy song by Bart Howard, made famous by Frank Sinatra, also comes to mind. Listen to Billie Holiday’s Blue Moon for a more melancholy mood.
As for poetry, join Li Bai and the moon on any starry night, a connection so strong that it is said he tried to grasp the moon’s reflection from a boat on a lake and drowned.
Chang E and Houyi
Houyi, Lord Archer (to Chang E, his lovely wife): Chang E, on such a morning when the sea and sky are pale blue, when the Heavenly River fades into the distant ocean, and the Morning Star flickers on the water and falls away, Chang E, are you not saddened by the long, lonely nights?
There are several stories about Chang E, the moon goddess. One version tells this tale. Chang’e was a beautiful woman, wife of Houyi, an accomplished archer.
Once upon a time, ten suns rose in the sky, one following another, all day. The land was scorched the crops burned, the people suffered. Lord Archer, Houyi, shot down nine suns, leaving just one. And a grateful Queen Mother of the West gave him an immortal elixir as a reward, enough to share with his wife, Chang E.
Proclaimed king by people in the Middle Kingdom, Houyi became a tyrant. Chang E, fearing that he would rule forever, drank the potion and fled to the moon to escape her hot-tempered husband.
Li Shangyin was a poet of the late Tang dynasty. The forty-five years of his life (c. 813–858) encompassed the turbulent reign of six emperors and the rising influence of the palace eunuchs. The tale of one emperor, Wuzong, recalls the story of Houzi and Chang E and their immortal potion. Wuzong began taking pills hoping to lead to immortality. His mood became angry and he died six years into his reign.
The circumstances of Li Shangyin’s own death are not recorded. He was however considered the last great Tang poet.
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why am i so upset about fairyloot special edition of Chain of Thorns being sold out?
well I didn’t hear anything about it before hand they normally have a showcase on instagram but i don’t have it on my phone and viewing it on desktop is now a colossal pain and i can’t look at things easily on instagram dashboard because scrolling down makes you jump back to the earlier post and it keeps doing that (there is announcment for this edition in October)
well I got the early access email for it yesterday but I didn’t fucking realise what it was so I didn’t click on it (and looking at email now the email is nowhere to found even though i didn’t delete it)
and i found out today it was selling on twitter with 50 copies left (tweet was at 1:01 pm) and when i looked it was all gone
the Fairyloot price is £21 + shipping and I can guarantee that when it ships in April/ May there are going to be copies cropping up on ebay for over a 100 quid i hate this I really do
looking at fairyloots less than fifty copies left tweet and the comments saying they had it in their cart and then it was flagged as sold out and I feel for you guys. this is getting frustrating honestly
also did I mention how much I hate the email app i have on PC? you can search for things on it that you just saw and the result would be sorry we don’t have that or worse we do have that but watch it all disappear (now that I know how to screen record i’ll be able to show what the fuck I mean)
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“Christmas Tree Farm (Old Timey Version)”
Amazon Music exclusive video
#sorry about the cropping; i had to screen record#also apologies if this has been uploaded as i haven't seen it yet#taylor swift#christmas tree farm#video#ts
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I’m Not Afraid To Cross Some Lines .... (Jack Harlow Fanfic)
DISCLAIMERS : this is a full/Longer fanfic and will be divided into parts . The concept is of Jack Harlow and a Singer not being able to keep their relationship as artists professional. Warning !! there is sexual content and such aswell as language so ..... but yea enjoy :)
“Shut up , I’m so done with you”
Your Zoom call with Jack ran for more than hour already with him cracking jokes and pulling several fits of laughter from you on the other end. Both you and Jack Harlow were artists signed to Generation Now and had successful budding careers and your label execs were eager to get you and him to join forces and collaborate. You and Jack always had great chemistry from the start and you admired his talent and drive but you were initially hesitant about collaborating because of the dating rumors it would generate. A lot of the time you would attend the same events and you had a lot of the same friends and fans thought you would make a cute couple based off of some red carpet and social media interactions , all this put you in an uncomfortable position not only cause you hated having people all up in your business but mainly because you were in a relationship. Your boyfriend was not in the industry and you loved having him in your life to keep you grounded. The relationship offered you the space to switch off from life in the spotlight however for your boyfriend it was difficult to share so much of you with the world and have people on the internet question why you would want to be with him.
“So where’s your man at ?” Jack questioned.
“He went for a drive , he’s gonna bring back something to eat “
“How wholesome for you” His comment had a sarcastic undertone
“Probably not as wholesome as having some random person suck my dick every other evening “ You shot back
“Now when were you going to tell me about your dick y/n”
“I’d rather put it in your mouth than tell you about it , know you’d love that”
“I would”
Your boyfriend walked in on the episode of laughter your conversation with Jack launched you into. “Hey babe” you acknowledged him still grinning. He was pleased to see you smiling but had a slight annoyance in his face when he spotted Jack in a hoodie on your laptop screen.
“Yo Jack “ Your boyfriend brought himself to acknowledge him right after placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Yo ..” was all Jack said.
Sensing the awkward atmosphere you spoke. “So Jack we about to kick it over here , Kyle brought home some take out. This was real fun and I can’t wait for us to get this track together”.
“Of course ! yall have yourselves a good night “ Jack offered you a sincere smile and disconnected from the call.
Closing your laptop you were now able to plant an endearing kiss on Kyle’s lips. “You enjoy your drive ?” You asked eagerly digging into the bag of warm take out and pulling out a fry.
“So you and him working on something ?” Kyle skipped over your question. Your chewing slowed down and you gave Kyle a good side eye before responding.
“I’m sorry but did you just skip over my question to ask me about Jack?”
“Sorry I just ..- it looked interesting my bad”.
“Yes we were just running some ideas by each other , they want me on Jack’s new album “ You confirmed sounding less upset. With that you proceeded to eat your meals in silence and spent the night curled up on the couch. You weren’t all the way present because you kept playing back parts of your call with Jack and thinking of ideas for your new song. You had to admit you were excited about the collaboration , but that’s not something you were going to share with Kyle in this very moment. You were able to contain the excitement you were feeling from your boyfriend for the weeks to come till your studio session with Jack.
You always liked to be comfortable when recording and opted for a simple outfit. Mom jeans were your go to and you paired them with white converse sneakers and a crop top. With a light beat and some lipgloss you threw on a bucket hat and drove yourself over to the studio.
The session got off to quite the start when you walked in on Jack receiving oral on the studio sofa.
“Jesus Christ !” you exclaimed dramatically shielding your face while Jack frantically tucked his penis back into his sweatpants and the girl pulled her top back up and got on her feet.
“Yo y/n I -”
“Don’t need the details “ You cut him short sensing he was about to explain something you knew you would not be able to unhear. You and the girl Jack was with had an awkward eye contact moment before she gave Jack a look and walked out. The moment she was gone you and Jack burst out laughing and cackling.
“You are one sick motherfucker you know that “ You playfully shoved his shoulder before occupying a seat by the sound and engineering board. The two of you shared light conversation until the producers you would be working with arrived and the session could truly kick off.
You were laying down some really good work and chopping it up real good for the next few hours. The energy in the studio was super laid back even though Jack was very serious about his work. That was something you understood well being an artist yourself and so your exchanges and chemistry were genuine and did not feel forced. You and Jack would bounce ideas off of each other with ease , which surprised you considering your sound was known for being very girl next door , vulnerable and sensual and Jack’s sound leaned more towards having a good time and then there was the obvious difference in him being a rapper and you being a singer, but in that moment your worlds met and complimented each other well. Jack would sit back with stars in his eyes when hearing you vocalize and give mini performances , you exchanged some personal stories from your pasts and Jack’s best friend and photographer was on stand by to capture all these little moments as they happened.
“So how’s Kevin ?” Jack teased picking a slice of pizza from one of the boxes that had just been delivered.
“His name is Kyle , Jack” You shot back taking the slice from his hand before he could get a bite and digging in. Jack licked his lips as he watched you devour his slice of pizza.
“Maybe I deserve that” He reached for another slice.
As the time started getting closer to wrapping up for the day you felt a bit sad. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun recording and writing music with people around. You always felt most in your element when alone and writing about some of your saddest and vulnerable moments so to have a change of pace that involved fun lyrics and fun company acted well on your spirits. It was all thanks to Jack and his energy , it made you wish you had spent more time with him sooner. You loved how his mind worked , how he articulated his thoughts and ideas , his ease , confidence and humility.
“You need a ride home?” Jack offered as the producers got their things together
“I drove here I’ll be good”
“Me and the guys are hitting the strip club , wanna pull through?”
“Strip club?” You arched a brow surprised Jack would think to invite you
“Work hard , play hard “ he smirked offering you his hand.
you gave his hand a weary look before biting your bottom lip and accepting his offer. Fuck being a public figure , fuck the fact that you were in some jeans and sneakers , you did not want your day with Jack to end.
The strip club was even more fun than the studio session. You and Jack had settled in a more secluded section of the club while his mates moved around more freely. It was not your first time being in a strip club but something about the spontaneity of it all and having Jack there as your partner in crime made this particular visit more fun and intriguing. An array of colors from flashing led lights adorned the skin of the stripper currently on the pole at yours and Jack’s booth , her movement was super fluid and precise as she worked her way around the pole and You and Jack watched in admiration sitting next to one another. Your eyes would occasionally drift to your side to look at Jack. There was a change of song that prompted the stripper to get down from the pole and onto Jacks lap serving up all kinds of sensual and erotic movements and dances all while letting him feel her up. The woman was wearing nothing but her heels and neon pink thong with jewelry. As she went on you tried to distract yourself and pulled out your phone only to have the dancer make a way towards you after Jack had whispered to her to show you a good time.
For the most part you were into it but when you looked over at Jack to see how amused he was you decided to turn things up a notch. The dancer was straddling you and you effortlessly initiated a kiss while caressing her exposed ass cheeks and moaning into her mouth. Amusement turned into arousal as Jack adjusted in his seat and eyed the scene hungrily. His lust was evident but he still maintained a composure that was so attractive to you.
“I could risk it all for you baby but I gotta job to do ?” The dancer whispered onto your lips before getting up and letting the next dancer keep you and Jack entertained. Eventually it was time to head home but Jack was not comfortable letting you drive yourself home alone , having had a few drinks and not just being a woman but being a well known public figure , it just did not feel right to him. Arrangements were made for your car to be driven by someone in Jacks camp but he would be the one to personally drive you home.
“What a fucking day” You gazed out the window of the moving car wishing you could just roll it down but knowing you did not want to be spotted at this hour alone in a car with Jack Harlow. “Haven’t let go like that in a long time “ you admitted somberly drawing imaginary shapes on the cold surface of the car window with your fingertips. Your voice was now hoarse from all the singing and partying. Jack was about to respond till he observed that you had drifted into a deep sleep in the passenger seat.
The next morning you awoke to your boyfriend bringing you breakfast up to your room. You still had memory of the previous day’s events but getting home and getting in bed was a blur for you.
“I was worried when I didn’t hear from you yesterday “ Kyle joined you on your bed.
“Yeah it was a long day “ You avoided eye contact while accepting a cup of coffee from him. After enjoying your breakfast in bed with Kyle you left him in the bed to go shower. Upon your return you noticed Kyle was no longer laid up and relaxed as you had left him instead he sat on the edge of the bed , phone in hand. His body language was tense and signaled to you that something was wrong.
“You okay?” You furrowed your brows in concern , your towel still wrapped around your body.
“So I’m worried about not hearing from you yesterday but I stop myself from calling because I want you to have your space but you’re out having fun with your new buddy Jack Harlow”. He rotated the phone to face your direction revealing he was looking at pictures of the stripper kissing you while Jack watched. Your blood began to boil because you thought your privacy at that club was safe but clearly it wasn’t. This was not only bad because of Kyle’s reaction but you knew this meant it was spreading all over social media and sparking a string of stories around what your relationship with Jack was.
“I see how this is bad , I don’t wanna take anything away from you by saying it’s not what you think because if roles were reversed I’d feel how you must be feeling right now and Kyle I love you , I really do but I’ve fucked up , I’m willing to admit that “ You stayed standing across the room , afraid to get close to him.
“Did you fuck him?” Kyle’s jaw clenched at the question.
“No , we’ve never even come close to that , we were just letting off steam at the club and that little moment happened , but there’s nothing more to the story , you have to believe me”
The situation was made worse by Jack’s caller ID appearing on your screen visible to Kyle he reached for it and shot you a look that caused you to shudder.
“Should I leave so you can answer your man’s call ?”
“Don’t be like that ?”
“I’m going to leave before I say something I can’t take back” Kyle handed you your ringing phone and stormed off. You were left to decide whether or not you’d pick up. Moments after it stopped ringing a text came through.
“Hey Y/n , I was calling to see if you are good after last night but looks like you’re busy. Just hit me so I know you’re okay”.
You tossed your phone onto your bed and threw yourself onto it as well facedown ready to scream into a pillow.
PART TWO :
https://anothersylvia.tumblr.com/post/679521302077489152/im-not-afraid-to-cross-some-lines-jack-harlow
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wordless, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: A library is full of words and quiet. Jeon Jungkook liked to go to the public library a lot. It turns out, so do you. And that’s how it begins, from passing glances, to words on a screen, to Jungkook now sitting shirtless in his bedroom, heart racing as he presses the record button.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, filming of nudity and m-masturbation, semi-public dry humping); fluff; non-idol!BTS; the definition of “well that escalated quickly” but also not? lol; shy!Jungkook
hello again, @gowayyeonjun, ;)
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He stared at the black screen, reflecting his nervous expression.
His hand shot out and flipped it down. His phone case faced upwards, a clear case with a carrot graphic on the bottom against the matte black of his smartphone. A reference to his childhood nickname because of his ever-so-slightly too large front teeth.
He took a deep breath and flipped his phone back up, leaning it against his windowsill.
“Am I really going to do this?” he asked his own reflection, who did nothing but repeat his question back to him.
He raised his hand, dropped it. Raised it again, chewing on his lip. Leaned forward and pressed his finger to his phone screen, unlocking it. Then he pulled up the camera app. Before, he had been staring at his reflection in the black screen, but now his face was in full color, curly dark hair over one eye since it was freshly washed, his tan chest bare, gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. Black tattoos on his right arm on full display, brown eyes wide and slightly terrified.
If you told Jeon Jungkook six months ago that he was about to film himself masturbating, he would have told you that you were fucking crazy.
He breathed out tensely, puffing his cheeks.
It was all your fault.
If he hadn’t seen you, he wouldn’t be doing this.
-
Jungkook liked to read and he liked to go to the public library. He knew libraries were becoming obsolete, but Jungkook loved libraries because they were quiet, they were full of books, and nobody tried to talk to him. That was it, really. He was a shy person and he really didn’t know what to do when someone approached him and tried to chat him up. When Jungkook was in front of a crowd doing public speaking, he was fine. But one-on-one interactions freaked him out. He was bad at talking and connecting with people on a personal level.
It didn’t really help that a lot of people thought he was attractive.
Jungkook didn’t think he was ugly, but he didn’t really think he was that crazy special either. He was just a guy and he was just trying to go about his everyday life without having a crowd of giggling girls following him for half a block trying to get his number.
That’s why Jungkook liked libraries. People didn’t talk at libraries. They were supposed to be quiet. He could be calm here. No one was going to try to pick him up at a library.
And then he saw you.
You were browsing the shelves, pulling a book out and reading the back. You had five in your arms already, and here was number six. You tilted your head, opening it up with one hand, reading the introduction. Jungkook could see how deft your fingers were with that single action. You were wearing a short-sleeved white crop top and high-waisted baggy black jeans with colorful patches on them. They looked sewn on, as if you had done it yourself.
He stared at you through the bookshelves.
You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Lips that looked so soft they seemed unreal. Hair that cascaded down your shoulders, a little messy and not quite done. For some reason, you holding that book was such a beautiful action that he couldn’t look away, staring at your one hand spreading open the pages, tongue tucked in your cheek as you considered it. You nodded to yourself and began to walk out the aisle.
His eyes followed you.
From then on, Jungkook noticed you every time you appeared. Always holding over five books, returning them and getting more. Usually in a crop top and high-waisted jeans. Sometimes with a black denim jacket if it was chilly at night. Jungkook was at the library all the time and it seemed like so were you. He didn’t try to talk to you, but he did always stare at you, watching your movements. Jungkook was unaware that this was how a lot of people saw him and probably the reason why so many people tried to talk to him and ask for his number.
He wanted to ask you for your number, but he was too shy.
One time, you were reading and walking. This particular time, Jungkook hadn’t noticed you until it was too late and you bumped into him. He could smell you suddenly, the scent of peaches and honey. It must have been your perfume. You looked up to him and bowed apologetically, wordless.
His ears burned hot and his jaw trembled, almost blurting out an apology.
You turned away, continuing your reading.
Peaches and honey.
Jungkook wanted to say something to you. He really did. For three months, he tried to muster up the courage to say something. But you weren’t supposed to talk in a library. And what was he supposed to say? He didn’t know you. He wasn’t sure if you had anything in common other than books. You read lots of things. Crime thrillers. Sci-fi. Fantasy. Autobiographies. He noticed you never went into the romance section though.
He wondered why that was.
The next time Jungkook interacted with you, he had been reaching for a title at the front. The library put the newest releases here and one of the covers had caught his eye. And all of a sudden, your hand was reaching out too and his fingers touched yours.
You jerked your hand back, bowing apologetically, moving away.
He wanted to run after you and tell you that you could have it, but you strode into the library quickly and then you were gone, crop top and all. Jungkook stared at his hand, remembering that brief moment of your fingertips brushing against his skin, peaches and honey filling his nose as you neared.
The weeks dragged on.
It was getting colder and you wore the denim jacket a lot now. Sometimes you wore a fuzzy cropped sweater. One time, it was pink and tight, molding to your breasts. Your black jeans were tight too, shaped to your perfect ass and thighs. Plump and juicy.
They would look nice in his hands.
He walked past you on purpose that time. A little close, so he could smell the peaches and honey.
That time, Jungkook had gone home with an armful of books, dumped them on his bed, then dumped himself on the bed, shoving his pants down and stroking himself to climax, the scent of peaches and honey haunting him.
Another time, you were sitting on the ground, thighs spread, on your knees. A tall pile of ten books, tapping your cheek with one finger as your other hand shuffled through them, apparently trying to decide which ones to check out. Jungkook’s eyes went wide. He was watching you above the books, a full shelf between you and him. From this angle, he was looking down at you.
Staring down your V-neck white sweater, at the swell of your breasts, a silver necklace trapped between them. He only had a good view because he was looking at you from above. You reached between your tits and plucked the pendant out from your cleavage, a silver feather.
Jungkook had never gotten hard at the fucking library before, but his cock swelled and tented in his sweatpants instantly.
He couldn’t function, watching you on your knees, curve of your breasts on full display. Finally, you seemed to decide and got up, sighing softly as you put some of the books back. You moved out of the aisle, hoisting the ones you had chosen. Jungkook jerked his head away, realizing he was staring at you too much. And it was creepy, so he should stop.
Once he was home, he couldn’t and didn’t need to stop himself. He still remembered the peach and honey perfume. He wanted that peach and honey to cling to his clothes, stay on his sheets, invade his nose. Wanted your skin on his, wanted your body on top of him.
It got quite cold at some point, and you wore cropped hoodies now, the front tucked into tight black jeans. Still checking out books at the local library, a fuzzy pink bag strapped to your back with a cute bunny character on it.
Had that much time passed? Jungkook couldn’t believe it.
He still remembered the peaches and honey. He tried not to stare at you too much, because he knew it was getting too creepy and, now, he was jacking off to memories of your eyes and lips, thinking about that one time your fingertips brushed his skin.
He seemed frozen at the shelf, zoning out, contemplating if he should look up or not. Then the peaches and honey were right beside him. He could smell it, see your black sneakers with the pink laces. They matched your bag.
Your fingertips brushed against his right hand, plucking out the book beside it.
Jungkook started and whipped his head up, long black hair covering one of his shaking brown eyes.
You jumped a little as well, not expecting his reaction. Of course, you didn’t. He tried to calm his nervousness. Just open your mouth, Jungkook, he scolded himself. Apologize for scaring her.
You were holding your phone in one hand. It had a black case with a grinning smiley face with devil horns. You tucked the book in the crook of your arm and swiped at your phone, and then turned the screen to face him.
Sorry.
It was in your notes app.
He stared at the word. Then looked back up at you. You nodded, pointing to the screen.
He lowered his hand and fumbled for his phone, hastily typing into it and turning it around to show you.
No, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.
You smiled at him.
Jungkook thought he was going to die.
You typed quickly and flashed the screen at him.
I’m using my phone because we shouldn’t talk in a library.
Jungkook typed fast too to give you his reply.
That makes a lot of sense. You’re smart.
You beamed at him. Jungkook thought he was ascending to heaven. You typed eagerly, as if you couldn’t wait to tell him what next.
I see you at the library all the time. What’s your name?
Jungkook was pretty sure he was dead and in heaven already, seeing that response. You noticed him. Did you notice him as much as he noticed you? His fingers shook as he typed his answer.
Jeon Jungkook.
His lower lip trembled slightly as he added one more question.
What’s yours?
For some reason, these face-to-face text conversations did not bother him as much as a real chat. After that, you two exchanged small talk like this. Usually just a greeting in text before going on your way. You didn’t ask him for his number, not even to send texts. You always used the notes app, always in person, and it was short and sweet.
One day, he found some bravery somehow.
Jungkook was a very shy person. His fingers were shaking so much that he dropped his phone. You had bent down to pick it up, reading the question he wanted to ask.
I want to hear your voice.
You tilted your head, holding his phone out. He bit his lip and took it, placing it against his chest, somewhat ashamed for asking. Your hand suddenly appeared, your phone in his vision.
Why?
He lifted his head, looking at you. You shrugged, as if to add, does it matter? He typed slowly, inhaling deeply as he turned his phone around.
I’m curious.
Your eyes flickered down, reading it. You were close to him. He could smell the peaches and honey of your perfume. Wearing a cropped purple sweater with tight dark blue jeans and purple sneakers with white laces. The same pink fuzzy bag with the bunny character.
You leaned forward and Jungkook’s eyes widened, suddenly feeling your breath on his ear. Soft, warm exhales. His entire body shivered and tingled. His cock jerked his sweatpants, thankfully black and baggy enough that hopefully you wouldn’t notice. His breathing shallowed, wafting against your neck.
From this angle, he could see your phone in your hand with the little devil emote on the case.
You pulled back, blinking slowly. A small smile formed on your lips.
His cock swelled. That was not an innocent smile.
You lifted your phone.
Next time, I’ll have something for you.
The next time, you held your phone out to his. There was an app called QuickShare that allowed your phones to exchange files. You both pressed the button and Jungkook waited as the file downloaded. You held up your earbuds and pointed to him, as if to ask, do you have headphones?
Jungkook nodded, fishing out his earbuds and tucking them in his ears.
The file finished downloading and Jungkook held up his phone.
You smiled at him and gestured to him to play it.
Jungkook turned his phone back around and played it. It was a video file, but the screen was black as it the file began. Then your voice invaded his ears.
“Hello, Jeon Jungkook.”
His heart beat fast, finally hearing your voice after all this time.
“You asked to hear my voice, so here it is. Do you like it?”
He jerked his head up and looked at you, nodding quickly. You smiled at him.
“I hope you do.” A small, pretty laugh. Jungkook liked that little laugh a lot. “I guess it’s been kind of weird only speaking through text at the library, hasn’t it?” Jungkook made eye contact with you. “But it’s been nice too. I’ve enjoyed it a lot.” Your smile was becoming less and less innocent. Not mean, but a little teasing now. “I think you’re really cute.” He felt his cheeks flush hotly. “Why do you always wear sweatpants, Jungkook?” His brows furrowed. You pointed down to his phone. He lowered his eyes.
The black screen was changing. There was rustling, and the phone was lifted.
A bed.
A bed with dark gray sheets and a black blanket with stars wrapped around you. You smiled down at the camera. Jungkook’s eyes widened. Your lips opened, speaking softly, but clearly.
“You shouldn’t wear sweatpants, Jungkook. It doesn’t hide your erections very well.”
The blanket fell down your shoulders and Jungkook nearly dropped his phone. His cock instantly swelled. He jerked his head up from his phone, to your arched eyebrow and smirk, then back to his phone.
Staring at your naked body, tits out and nipples hard. Thighs pressed together, hands resting on them.
You tilted your head at the camera, giving him a similar expression to the one you had right now. He gawked, unable to look away.
“I wonder if you’re hard now, Jungkook,” the you in the video murmured. He was. Oh, fuck, he was. “Is it me?” Yes. It was you. Fuck. “I tried to see by getting close to you and breathing on your ear last time. You got hard because of it. I think.” He did. Fuck. He did. “I wonder why.”
You spread your legs and Jungkook gasped, staring at the space between your thighs, your glistening pussy barely visible. You leaned forward, breasts hanging down as you neared the camera, a small, smug smile on your lips.
“I wonder,” you whispered to the camera. “How do you feel about this, Jungkook?”
You flicked your phone with a finger, turning the screen to black again. Jungkook thought it was over. But there were still a few seconds left. Then all of a sudden, your moan filled his ears, breathy and erotic.
“Jungkoooooook….”
The video ended.
Holy shit.
Oh my God.
What just happened?
Oh my God.
Peaches and honey. All of a sudden, peaches and honey, close to him. Your body. Your currently clothed body, but he knew what you looked like naked now. I know what you look like naked! Jungkook backed up and you followed, all the way until his back hit the bookshelf. He made a small squeak, but your hand suddenly came up, finger pressed against his lips. His eyes rose, locking with yours.
You shook your head, placing your other hand by your lips and making a gesture to zip them.
You were touching him.
Oh my God.
You were touching him.
Your other hand lowered from your mouth. Lowered. Hovered over his hips. Waited. His eyes stared into yours. You removed your finger from his lips. Seemed to think better of it. Backed up a little. But his hand shot out, grabbing yours and pressing it to his crotch.
You studied him carefully. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip and chewed slowly. He didn’t know if this was right, but you showed him your naked body! You filmed it. And gave him the video file. You must know. You must know what you’re doing to him.
He lifted his hips a little into your hand, pressing his stiff length into your palm. Your fingers curled around it slowly, one by one. Not speaking. Wordless. He reached up to the strings of your black hoodie and played with them, breathing quietly but heavily, opening his mouth. You lifted your other hand and pressed your fingertip to your lips. He nodded.
Jungkook began to roll his hips into your palm. You didn’t move away. In fact, you held firm, maintaining your solid grip on his hard dick through his gray sweatpants. In the fucking library. He was humping your fucking hand in the library after you gave him a video of your naked body.
His eyes drifted down to your phone sticking out of the center pocket of your hoodie. The matter black case with the smiley face with devil horns. Jungkook looked back up. You seemed amused. Suddenly, your hand seemed to press back, meeting his hips every time he ascended, adding more friction. His shaking fingers pressed play on the video again and your voice filled his ears, speaking to him once again. Saying his name. Having your one-sided conversation. You rubbed him through his sweatpants in the back aisle of the library and he was getting close, close, your voice teasing him, but your current self completely silent, only giving him that slight smile.
Holy shit, Jungkook was going to explode in his underwear like a teenager.
You leaned in as the video moaned in his ears and he almost moaned, the sound dying in his throat as you hovered over him. You tilted your head, curving around his. Your hand stopped around his cock, squeezing him tight.
Thank God.
He was seconds away from completely embarrassing himself.
You reached up and took one of his earbuds out of his ear, your warm breathing tickling his earlobe. Lowered your hand and placed the earbud in his, tucking it safely before removing your hand from his sweatpants. Jungkook shuddered, gasping your name involuntarily. The first word he had ever spoken to you in person. The scent of peach and honey lingered around his nose.
Your murmured one word into his ear.
The first word you had ever spoken to him in person.
“Jungkook.”
His name.
You backed up, smiling gently. Backed up, turning away, leaving him there in the back of the library, clutching his phone, underwear soaked with pre-cum, now in possession of a video of you, naked.
-
Now Jungkook was in his bedroom.
Camera app open.
You didn’t ask for a video. You didn’t ask for anything, actually. You just gave, so he wanted to give you something back. Jungkook wasn’t the kind of guy to only give a little. He gave a lot. He always did. That was how he was. He knew what he wanted to do. He knew what he was going to do.
This has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done.
Six months ago, if you told Jeon Jungkook that he was about to film himself jacking off to give said video to a young woman he met at the public library who had only said one fucking word to him the whole time they saw each other in person, the one fucking word being his name, Jungkook would have told you that you were insane and needed to see a doctor.
He reached over and pressed record.
Unlike you, Jungkook didn’t start off with a black screen. He started off with his face and bare torso, part of his gray sweatpants showing. Sitting on the edge of his bed, even remembering things like picking out his nicer black sheets and making sure he had picked up after himself. He wore the lighter gray sweatpants so his body would stand out amongst the black. The obvious center of attention. Jungkook nervously ran a hand through his long black hair, curly from the shower earlier. Lifted his dark brown eyes to stare straight into the camera. Pink lips quivering as he spoke your name.
“Hey.”
A small anxious smile that he couldn’t help.
“Ah… If you think this is weird, you can delete this right now and not watch it…” Jungkook swallowed, dropping his hand. He inhaled a long breath, trying to calm his nerves. “But… I…”
He looked straight into the camera, not at his reflection.
“I replay your video all the time.”
His heart was racing in his chest. He could feel it galloping like a damn racehorse.
“I can’t help it.”
The images came back, memorized now, but the reason he had replayed it all those times before was to hear your voice, over and over, saying his name. Moaning his name at the very end.
“What do you do after?” Jungkook breathed your name, softly, letting it fall from his lips. Said it again, forming the syllables with desire. “I’m so curious. Will you tell me sometime?” There was no way Jungkook could say this shit at the fucking library. But this wasn’t the library. This was his bedroom. He didn’t have to give this to you.
But he was going to.
“Will you show me, sometime?” Thump. “I’d love to watch.”
His fingers began to trail down his chest. Jungkook wasn’t actively thinking about it. He was imagining you listening, knowing his voice would fill your ears, his voice now smokey with lust and desire, several octaves lower than his usual tone. He couldn’t help it.
“Will you let me watch?”
His eyes shifted to the screen, watching his fingertips brush the waistband of his gray sweatpants, slipping under. He had prepared, practiced earlier, knowing the composition was correct. Making sure you would be able to see. He pushed them down, past his v-line. Thump. Licked his lips, stared into the camera again.
“Will you let me touch?” Jungkook breathed, black strands shadowing his left eye, lashes lowering as he pulled his hard cock out of his sweatpants.
His heart ricocheted in his chest. He wrapped his hand around it, moaning softly, feeling his hot, taut skin. Stroked slowly, staring into the lens. Jungkook already knew what he looked like. Muscles on his right arm rippling, black tattoos dancing on his tan skin. The lust built up inside him like a storm, ramping up and up, and he was swept up by the winds, tipping his head back a little as he stroked himself, whimpering out your name.
“Do you know how good you smell?” Jungkook panted out. “You smell like peaches and honey. It must be your perfume. It’s so nice. I wish I could smell it more. I wish I could stand next to you and breathe it in.” He was rambling, but it was genuine, so he didn’t try to stop himself. He didn’t want this to seem fake. He didn’t want you to think he was trying to play you. “I want it all over my clothes. I want it on my skin, your peaches and honey.”
Faster, harder, pre-cum leaking out and dripping down, adding to the pleasure every time his fingers closed around the throbbing head. His left hand reached back to support himself as he leaned back, staring at the camera with half-lidded eyes, his toned chest shuddering, sweatpants halfway down his thighs, his right hand furiously jacking himself off.
“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable,” Jungkook gasped out, eyelids fluttering. “But I can’t help it. I really want you. It’s not fair how pretty you are.” He exhaled hard, heart beating fast. “And you gave me that video. All I wanted was to hear your voice.”
He threw his head back, nearing the end.
“You let me see your body.” His words were becoming moans, breathless with longing. “You let me see so much. You want me to want you.”
Jungkook lowered his head, catching himself in the phone screen, black hair all over his face, mouth open, his sharp jawline tense with his approaching climax.
“And I do. Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.”
His eyes shifted to the lens.
“And I’m going to cum. Thinking about you.”
Jungkook sucked in a breath and gasped out your name, his cock jerking in his hand, shooting white strings down his fingers, splattering onto his sweatpants, creating a pool of white. He had made sure to wait a couple days to let it build up so he could give you a good show. His orgasm spilled out of him, his torso quivering, enveloped with pleasure riding through him in waves. Slowly, he smeared it up and down his length, heightening the ecstasy. His chest was trembling, slowly coming down. Jungkook took his own cum and rubbed it on the sensitive head, whimpering softly at the spikes of pleasure it caused.
His lips formed your name once again, a low moan.
Held up his right hand, covered in his cum.
Reached over with his left and stopped the recording.
-
Jungkook had to wait a while to give it to you.
Holidays and all that. Then he got busy with work, but eventually he was back at the public library again, looking for you. The sinful video was saved on his phone, in a locked folder, buried in his photo gallery of family photos and pictures with his friends.
He looked for you, couldn’t find you.
Until one day Jungkook spied you at the check-in counter, handing the librarian your books. You had maybe ten or twelve, and the librarian checked them in one by one, having small talk with you. You seemed familiar with them. Of course, you were. You read so much. Not many people visited the library as often as you. Maybe himself.
You were wearing baggy black jeans with colorful sewn on patches, as if you had done it yourself. A cropped white puffer jacket to keep you warm. You nodded and smiled at the librarian before turning around to go into the main part of the library. A loose black crop-top with the slightest sliver of midriff showing, instantly reminding Jungkook of what you looked like without clothes on.
Your eyes found his.
You smiled at him.
Jungkook nearly dropped his phone. He probably looked ridiculous, wearing light gray sweatpants and a white hoodie, hood pulled up with his black hair sticking out of the sides. But he wore the gray sweatpants on purpose. At least, every time he came to the library.
He held up his phone with shaking hands.
You began to walk, but not quite towards him. Your eyes shifted and he followed, a little distance behind, slowly realizing where you were going. The same place you two were when you gave him the first video. The back of the library, where the older encyclopedias were. No one went there. The first time, Jungkook didn’t even think about it when you gestured him there to give him the video.
Now, he understood why.
He turned the corner and you were standing at the end of the aisle, next to the wall. Waved at him kindly. There was no way anyone could suspect you gave him a video of your naked body after saying a single word to him in person. Jungkook began to walk towards you, step by step. He didn’t have to give you the video. He had filmed another one of just his voice having an awkward one-sided conversation with himself.
You pulled out your phone with the little devil emote on the case.
Took out your earbuds, tucked them in your cute ears.
That smile, turning slightly less innocent now as Jungkook neared.
He held up his phone, pointing to the QuickShare app. You nodded, loaded it up. He stopped right in front of you and pressed the ‘send file’ button. Not the video of only his voice. The other one. His heart was beating fast, so fast. It began to download. The percentage ticking up. Thirty. Fifty. Eighty.
He felt a tap on his forearm.
Jungkook jerked his head up, staring into your eyes.
You gave him a concerned look, tilting your head. Wordlessly asking, are you okay?
He chewed on his lip and nodded slowly. Took another step towards you so he could smell it. The peaches and honey, wafting all over you, the sweet perfume. Now you two were close, so close. You smiled and patted his arm once again, reassuringly. You did not seem bothered by the closeness.
The file finished downloading.
Jungkook reached over to your phone and touched the screen. You tipped your hand to let him access the video file from the top menu. Your eyebrows shot up as you saw the beginning frame of the video, him shirtless. Jungkook swallowed hard next to you.
Pressed play.
He didn’t watch. Couldn’t really. He had re-watched it already, over and over, wondering if it was okay. Too little? Too much? Too forward? Too crazy? Jungkook stared at the top of your head, chewing his lip raw with anxiousness. Oh, shit, what if you ran and never spoke to him again? What If you thought he was super creepy? He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have given you that video. What was he thinking?
He felt you lean against his chest, breathing shallowly, your free hand gripping his white hoodie.
Jungkook’s eyes widened, finally looking down. You were watching him masturbate, not looking away, pressing yourself against his chest. His cock swelled at your closeness and the embarrassment of seeing himself come undone in that tiny screen in your hands, clutching your phone tightly.
You pressed your body against his, harder, and his hands automatically came up to hold your elbows, steadying you. He planted his feet so he wouldn’t tip over. Your hips touched his. Oh fuck. The front of your jeans rolled into the crotch of his sweatpants.
Oh, fuck.
Jungkook sucked in a breath as you began to dry hump him in the fucking public library, watching a video of him jacking off that he willingly gave you, your soft gasps against his chest, eyes glued to the screen, peaches and honey invading his nose. He didn’t make a sound, holding you close, his hard cock rubbing against the inside of his underwear, a patch of wetness forming as you provided the friction.
You lifted the phone slightly so it was at his shoulder, next to his head, eyes still on the screen, your breath suddenly on his neck and it took everything in Jungkook not to moan, because your breath was so warm and erotic, a feathery whimper gracing his ears as you watched him orgasm.
The video ended.
Your eyes shifted to his face.
Pupils dilated, soaked with lust.
You kissed him.
Full, on the mouth, those soft, soft lips pressed to his, inhaling him deeply. He had worn his nice cologne today, a mix of musky woods and sea breeze, and maybe you’d notice, maybe you’d want it too, on your clothes and on your skin. It seemed like it, the way you pressed against him so urgently, nestling yourself in his arms.
He drowned in the kiss, a kiss of peaches and honey.
You backed up, but only a centimeter, eyes slowly opening. He gazed into your eyes. He probably had the same expression. Uninhibited desire and longing.
“Do you… want to go somewhere that’s not the fucking library so we can talk?” you whispered against his lips quietly. Your tone was heavy with lust.
He did. Preferably somewhere with a bed.
“Yeah…”
You lowered your phone, the little devil smiling at him before it disappeared in your pocket.
Jungkook grabbed your hand. Held it tight. Took one step, then another, with you.
You smiled at him.
Not so innocent.
--
masterpost
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook imagine#jungkook imagine
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coax the cold | reader x chan
Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan
Genre: smut, lil bit of fluff
Tags: softsub!chan, softdom!reader, virgin!chan, shyyyy!chan, lowkey awkward chan hehe, tinder hookup au, college au (very US college haha--or at least how I know it), guided sex, cowgirl, reader has nipple piercings sooo nipple play (my new kink) , hair pulling, use of petnames, praising, protected sex, fingering (f), someone’s impatient ;)
Word count: 4.2k
Recommended listening: bite by troye sivan
*photocreds to OP!
[02:05]
you are messaging: chan
me: i’m here by the bike locks? is this the right place? i don’t see a door anywhere?
Buzzing above your head, a streetlight flickered from the erratic flying of moths to the addictive yellow glow. You were never really a squeamish person, but when it came to moths, there was only so much that you could take in the uncomfortable silence of the parking lot.
A group of girls with their cropped shorts and bralettes came barreling out from a pair of doors farther down the building with music screeching from the phone speakers shoved in their tiny pockets.
“You’ve got the addy right? You didn’t hear anything about it getting shut down? Becs was telling me that they were doing ratios so it looks like we can’t bring the guys--”
You tapped on your phone screen to see if you had received a reply or if the little flame icon would flash while you watched the minutes tick by.
You had a little shame about the position that you were in, and you started to care less and less after seeing this guy’s pictures. He was somewhat illusive from what you could tell. The way that he texted in all lowercase made him seem approachable but he still wasn’t one ask for pictures of your tits or send the odd drunk text asking for you to come over.
You had send the message at this hour. It was likely that you were impatient from “playing the game” but he seemed intriguing enough.
The Friday night was filled with energy from the other side of the street across from the apartment complex. His place was situated right on the edge of campus next to a couple run down houses with windows lit by multicolored string lights and creaking doors which let out vibrating trap songs every time someone opened them. You had left a house similar to that before coming here right when it was getting boring and the boys were getting a bit handsier than you would’ve liked. You were done making out with randoms in hallways who tasted like watery beer and bad decisions.
“Um, hey! Are you y/n?” The stranger’s voice called from a fire escape door.
He was dressed simply, sort of like someone who didn’t care, or someone who hadn’t left their room since the morning. In this lighting, his hair seemed to be some kind of dark burgundy brown which was a bit different from his caramel blonde hair from the photos. You would’ve felt lied to on another occasion, but the simple trait wasn’t a game changer.
“Uh-yeah, that's me.” You smiled bluntly, not really sure even what to say in a situation like this.
Up close you saw what the pictures really didn’t give him justice: a faint press of dimples and stretching veins on his hands. You assumed that he was a bit smaller under the giant black hoodie that he wore, but he had that same kind of coziness that was just a little too dangerous for a hookup.
“I live on the third floor.” He informed you while leading up the hollow sounding cement staircase.
“Mm. Okay.”
The stranger turned his head briefly to smile back at you, “I-Its nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.” You nodded, even though he didn’t see.
This young man’s room was nearly exactly as you had pictured it to be element by element. Like every other boy his age, he had a gaming set up with color changing LEDs on the side of his machine and a smaller TV that was hooked up to some console you didn’t care to know the name of. The floors were nearly clean and the bed made--almost like he had planned for it to be that way; you could see the dirty clothes peeping from under his bed.
The banged up beige walls were decorated with posters of indie bands that you had heard of once or twice. He had somewhat of an organized open closet that held types of CDs and vinyl too--the room itself smelled a bit dusty like the protective covers of those albums that you associated with a record store.
“You can...we can sit down if you’d like.” He rather awkwardly gestured to his full sized bed. You prayed that once you pulled the covers back later there would be no white stains.
“Okay.”
“I could-um, turn on some music maybe? If you would like?”
“Sure!” You piped trying to sound as confident and in control as possible--it was clear he wasn’t.
He fidgeted with his phone and a bluetooth speaker which startled him when he turned it on. Just like the posters on his walls, he picked some soft sounding acoustic song with a crooning folk singer that sounded like he was singing with the exclusive use of his head voice.
The stranger sat next to you clasping his hands in front of him and eyes glued to the floor.
“Sorry...this is my first time doing this.”
“Doing...?”
He smoothed back his dark locks, “You know...meeting up with someone like this after meeting through an app. Um...what do you study?”
“Biochem with a graphic design minor. You?”
You weren’t sure if this was a hook up or an interview.
“Poli Sci Human Rights stuff and sound engineering on the side.”
“Huh...thats...cool.”
Both of you nodded your heads in the silence to which he cleared his throat loudly to feel the space.
“C-can I get you anything? You thirsty or something? I can steal some of my roommate’s Smirnoff Ice--”
“--No. I’m fine. Thank you though.”
He smiled sweetly to hid the fact that he was rubbing his sweating hands against his pants.
“But...how this usually starts off, you could lay down and maybe, I could get on top?”
“Oh!” He squeaked, “Sure! I can do that.”
The bed groaned out with the shuffling of bodies and your hookup sighed out with a shaky breath and squirming legs. “Like this?”
Rather than saying more, you crawled carefully over to him to the tune of his quickening chest and widened eyes. The shier he got, the harder it was for you to keep it in--he was ridiculously cute and your mind could only run wilder thinking about how he would react to everything you were about to show him. Your hands crept to the hem of his hoodie where you teased cold thumbs to his torso.
“I’m gonna take this off you, okay?”
Chan nodded eagerly with hair fluffing once you pulled it over his head.
“Take mine off?” You hushed into his ear to which he smacked dry lips to obey you.
He took his time pulling it off you; he savored the way that your bare body looked in front of him with glossy eyes that shone with the soft pastel glow from his computer in the opposite corner of his room. His chest heaved with his excitement which only held even more shallow breaths once your top hit the floor.
“I-I can touch you?”
“You can touch me anywhere you want to, baby.” You followed his head back to the pillow where you parted his quivering lips with your own. You could feel his shock get caught in his throat, then snake out hotly from his mouth to yours. He kissed you carefully, but growing in greed once you ran the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip. His curious hands wrapped around your back where he rubbed lightly at your sides, then traversed to your chest. You sunk deeper onto him to the tune of the music skipping to the next song which sounded nearly like a chilled out pairing of twangy guitars. As far as you could tell, it sounded something like Grateful Dead.
As your hips melded into his, Chan’s whole body jerked feeling the sudden contact of your pussy grind against him. As you had expected, he had hardened instantly, and his length bobbed and tented the thick fabric of his sweats. You kissed him deeper, exploring the corners of his mouth and the inside of his lower lip while tugged at the plush skin gently.
You should have guessed, but this boy didn’t have a clue how to take a bra off, so you did the job for him, sure to give him a display at the same time just for the dramatic effect of your surprise.
“H-holy shit.” Chan oggled your breasts from below. You were certain that he didn’t notice the way that he slicked his tongue slowly over his lip at the sight of you.
“You can touch them too.” You purred back into his ear, and he eagerly brought thrilled hands to your nipples.
“They’re really...um, pretty.” He said with fluttering eyes from your breasts to your eyes. What a gentleman he was being.
You toyed with your delightfully hardened bud in your hand while he played with the other. You pulled lightly at the sliver stud piercing there to show him that he could do the same and wetted your fingertips with your tongue to bring the wet to your skin. He kneaded at your breast firmly at first, cupping it in his hand, then moved his attention to your sensitive skin aroused just from the softest touches.
Your tiny moans was all the validation that he needed to squeeze harder and pull rougher. It was as if you could see his cute pent up fantasies unfolding right before you in his sparkling brown eyes.
“Mm, that feels so good.” You coaxed him further, going to grind you ass harder into his own lap and indulging in the way that even in your shorts, your folds could part around the thick imprint of his dick.
You collapsed over his face to align your nipples nearest his tongue which he gave no more thought. Chan kissed at them with trailing breathy moans of his own that melted into you and vibrated against the metal made one with your hardened buds. He sucked too with a flicking tongue that sent heat straight down to your clit. Each time his flattened tongue would return with the wet of his spit, you felt weaker and weaker for this boy becoming more tantalizing by the second.
“Want to--want to take off even more?” The phrase barely escaped your lips.
“Mmhm.” He agreed, then took to shimming off his pants quickly and watching you do the same, revealing your sky blue panties that always soaked in the way that you liked them to.
Your show continued on, and you took two of our fingers to rub over your clit while facing him. He too had wetted a spot into his boxers that adorably bunched around the upper parts of his thighs. With your free hand, you slithered to his erection and traced the outline, leaving him on a teasing squeeze.
“B-before we do anything else...I have to tell you something?” The young man hesitated, causing you to draw your hand back.
“What is it?”
“This is like my, first time, first time. You know?”
“You’ve never--”
“--I know. It’s...kinda embarassing...and the fact that it’s happening this way...”
“You don’t want it to happen this way?”
Chan stammered, but shook his head vehemently, “That's not it. I just don’t want you to be dissapointed...since I don’t really...know what I’m doing too well.”
He cracked with a hopeful smile, and you couldn’t stand it any more.
“Babyboy, you’ve got nothing to worry about, I don’t mind.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” You scooched next to him to twist a couple of his deeply cherry red strands into your fingers, “In fact, the fact that you haven’t done this before...really turns me on. Got it?”
Chan gulped, “S-so...what-what can I do for you? I’ll do anything?”
You pressed a light kiss into his forehead with a hand trailing up his thigh and back to his dick which still throbbed with his excitement.
“How about, you show me how you jerk off this cock of yours, angel? And I can show you how I do the same? For starters?”
He licked his lips once more, hooking his hands under his waistband and freeing his cock pink, and even thicker than you had imagined. You slid yourself unto his arm to cuddle up close to him, one of your legs swung over his so he could see exactly how you played with your clit.
He wrapped his hand around his dick with a tug which elicited a tiny “ah!” from his mouth.
“That’s it...jerk your cute cock for me...just like that.”
His eyes devoured the circles made by your hand between your legs--you strung together your slick between your fingers to him to see. The clear stringy cum shone on your fingers, making the other boy whimper out seeing how it coated them.
“I want to touch you too...down there, so bad.” He pleaded after pumping faster at himself.
“Oh? Pretty boy would like to feel what it’s like to touch my dripping cunt, hm? You know that watching you makes me like this...?”
Chan gasped out at the thought, letting out an “mmhm.” that cracked in his throat.
“C-can I?”
The heat of your naked bodies intermingled and turned the air of his small room dense, and each of your senses became hyper aware in your own arousal: every hair that stood on end, every flinch of his muscles beside you, you could feel it all.
“Of course you can.”
Chan shifted, leaving his dripping cock to pulse on your thigh where he flipped on his side to dip his hand between your folds and against your swollen clit.
“Rub in circles baby, or whatever feels right to you...you’ll know if it feels good for me.”
He nodded with hands trickling down to your pussy heated between your legs.
There’s something different about him, it could be the fact that you know next to nothing about him, or how he makes you bothered.
Slowly, his fingers dip between your folds slicked from your teasing--and the way that there mere sight of him teases you. Your back arches from the press of his fingers, and your bud throbs under each and every swipe of his fingers.
“Feels good?” He whispers into your ear, tickling it.
“Mm-yes.” With your free hand, you tangle your fingers into his hair to pull right at the roots. You bite a kiss into his lip while drawing him closer to you. His lips are plush and quivering like they can’t decide what to do with all the simulation at once.
“Harder...you can press harder,” The words were airy on your tongue while your hips writhed.
“Like this?” He circled harder, wider with his digits mixing with your cum.
The room appeared to blur in your euphoria. Coupled with the gentle music playing there was a kind of peace to this boy and everything about his little space. The further he continued, the more you longed for him fully--to feel every inch of his length inside of you as you fucked him for the first time.
Your hand grabbed at his hair even tighter: a symbol that he took as a good sign. He laughed out a little at your response.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He coos. Against your thigh, his dick bobs with a flared tip, begging for more attention.
You moan out for him as you dig your heels into his bed, and watch the way that your nipples harden around the metal piercings just from his touch.
“Just you wait baby, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Your kisses pull at his lower lip as you fill his mouth with more moans. “You don’t even know how fucking tight it is, how it feels when I pull you inside of me and how the friction feels when you’ll fuck me.”
Chan shivers from your words with a gulp and lets his fingers fall down to your entrance where is curiosity gets the best of him. You wince feeling his fingers fill your pussy with the wonderful way that you desperately close around his digits.
“Shit.”
“Are you ready?” You ask him permission before trailing a hand down his torso.
“--Yes,” He nods quickly, “Please. God--I want to feel it. Show me.”
You twitch from the lack of contact to your pussy when you swing your leg to straddle him. Your hips meet his, and he struggles for a moment over where to put his hands. In one motion you grind your dripping folds over his bare dick, slicking him up and down with the light grind of your hips. A broken gasp escapes from his lips which you catch with your own mouth in a kiss. His closed eyes flutter from the feeling of having you so close...but not completely yet.
“Got a condom, angel?” You caress down his cheek and let your thumb linger over his bottom lip.
Chan gives you a grunt in response before contorting his body to the side table where he fumbles for the plastic wrapper. His curtains dance a little with a breeze caught in them, likely from the window being open. The air smells a bit like water, and it’s cool and crisp in your lungs. It cools the surging heat that your body succumbs to.
You move for him to roll the condom on, tracing the muscles of his chest. His skin is untouched, unmarked, and suddenly all you crave is to see him bruised and scraped in pink. You dig your nails into his chest seeing the way he jerks at himself just a bit more while looking up at you in awe.
“H-how do we do this?” He asks.
“Just...do as I say...’kay?”
Your date nods, letting you take complete control over his body. You start at his neck with kisses that turn heavier and heavier then darker and darker. He busies his hands by cupping into your breasts and tweaking with the hardened buds.
“Just lay still, I can put in the work pup, okay?” You reach for his erection further down his body, and he finds handles in your hips and ass.
“I can do that.” He sighs out with a little groan feeling your hand squeeze at him.
At first, you tease your entrance with his head, barely letting him feel anything besides your clit against his pink tip. His skin grows dewy in his anticipation, and he licks at his lips which dry from each breathy exhale he uses to steady himself. You take your cum to wet at his dick with your hand, and push harder at his sides with your thighs.
“Tell me if you ever want me to stop, got it?”
Chan hastily nods, digging deeper into your sides.
“Fuck, just--fuck me already...I can’t...it’s really...hurts to wait--”
“Getting demanding now are you?” You tap a light slap to his face. “You’re doing what I say, not the other way around.”
“S-sorry...” He whines.
You resume, sitting properly on his length: all the way down, all the way to your cervix which screams in ecstasy from feeling him fill you so deeply.
“Fuck.” He groans, but his curse is intertwined with a beautiful giddy smile. “Its really tight. Oh god--”
You lean over him to attach your lips with his once more--a tiny distraction from the way that you start to roll your hips over his length. Chan freely lets his moans tickle your lips, each of them more gruff than the last as he looses himself in you and your rhythm. He’s dizzied: lightheaded--even you can tell. The new sensation takes him over, and he’s left a mess for you: hips trembling while you work your pussy up and down his length and his fingers claw into your shoulder blades.
Chan’s Adam’s apple bounces as he gulps dry, forming praises the best that he can. “Feels...amazing...”
You sit back, allowing his full length to tease your g-spot as you fuck him rougher, indulging yourself to all the pleasure that he can give you when you let him in as deeply as possible. He notices the change, and supports your body up with hands running up and down your chest, and down your arms where he pulls at the skin with his short nails.
“You like this?” You gasp between each roll of your hips. “How my cunt feels on your cock? How I can use you like this? Use your words Channie.”
“Yes. Fuck yes. Yo-You look...mm--”
You giggle a little at the light pink blush to his cheeks and the way that he stumbles over his words.
“Think you can last a little longer, baby?” Your fingers creep to his throat where you tease at squeezing his neck.
He pauses, loosing himself in it again before giving you a rushed answer: “I think? It’s just...really intense I think that I’m c-close already.”
You permit him only a couple more seconds of you, then glide off him carefully to which he whines out in confusion.
“Your turn to fuck me now. Come on, behind me.”
Chan looks bewildered and breathless, but he does as he’s told and tosses aside stray pieces of clothing on the bed to get to you. You hoist up your hips for him after burying your face into the mattress. To guide him further, you fuck your fingers for him too at this angle, only stopping once you feel the pressure of his cock once more. He slides himself in agonizingly slow until he bottom’s out with a choked moan.
“Fuck me baby boy. You know what do to.”
Your date’s hand finds your hips once more which he firmly grasps, then begins screwing into your pussy already blazing with heat and your orgasm building from before. He finds his pace after a while and fills the room with the fleshy sound of skin on skin. Your own fingers find their own way back to your clit where you rub in tandem with his thrusts.
“Oh,” He gasps quietly.
Your nails bury into the comforter of the bed, and your teeth clench harder as he milks himself into you and grows in pace.
“Fuck yes baby, fuck me just like that. You’re doing so good; fucking my pussy just like you should...”
Your orgasm quickens hearing the praises come from the bottom of your heart and the way that he grunts out hearing them. For someone who’s never done this before, it’s unbelievable how good he is at it all.
He shudders, and you feel yourself tighten around him further, sensing both of your release coming near. Your hookup doubles over your back, burning you with the heat from his body as he fucks into you with reckless thrusts.
“Shit, I’m so, so close.” He admits though clenched teeth.
“Me too baby, finish me off, cum inside until you’re throbbing and you can’t take any-anymore.”
A switches flips within this once innocent man, and you feel the bed creak as he kneels on one leg, then lifts one to stamp upon the bed to better his angle. The new position directly sends your g-spot into flames, and you shake from limb to limb feeling your orgasm right on the brink.
He growls upon his release, finishing it off with shallow breaths once he nearly collapses over your back to feel each drop of his cum release inside of your pussy. You rub your orgasm out until you see lightning behind your eyelids and it’s heightened by the way that he twitches with his cum against your deepest spot.
“A-are you okay?” Your adorable date immediately asks once you gasp and writhe under him.
“I’m fine, I’m fine...fuck,” You laugh out, “That felt unreal Channie.”
He shakes once his softening dick leaves your hole, and you get a good look at this stranger: chest flushed and hair messed over his forehead. He falls down to his side on the bed still breathless and letting out happy little laughs.
“I’m sorry if that was like, really fast. It just all felt...so good, and, I couldn’t really control it--”
“Mm, don’t you worry.” You sweep down to kiss his gasping mouth. Silently, you thank whoever it was in the universe that let you meet this boy on this night, and whoever willed you to leave that party.
“What do we do now?” Chan asks, still bare for you to take in wholly. You wanted to tell him, but couldn’t find the words. He was kind of beautiful.
“Whatever we want. I could go, or I could stay. Really anything goes.”
His chest is peppered with your purple love bites, and you wish then to give him even more if you have the chance--whenever that might be.
Chan tilts his head, “Stay?”
“Well, we still need to get to know eachother don’t we?”
The handsome stranger grins, and lets his hand trace the side of your face. The cool of the room feels addictive against you, and it weaves around your neck and against the little hairs of your arms.
“You’re right.” He nods, “There's only so much you can tell about a person from these kind of dating apps.”
“That’s true.” Your hand discovers his collarbones, which you trace lightly. “It’s nothing like the real thing.”
~🌹~
Bunch of (Ro)ses!
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Nowhere to Run (P.1)
Title: Nowhere to Run (Part One)
Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Stony. Reader was caught unknowingly stealing from the capitol harvest and is drug to the capitol for punishment. She is offered an option to go to trial or accept work in the main government building. Upon her tour, she ends up in trouble and catches eyes of two of the Master Council that decide she needs to be broken in by their hands.
Words: 1,847
Warnings: Non-con, servitude, forced orgasms, verbal and emotional abuse
Author’s Notes: I don’t intend for this to be a super long series. This chapter is setting up the non-con to come. Read at your own risk, 18+ as always. Also, the picture under the cut is the mood in the world that I am seeing; kind of steam punk? AND, song inspo.
Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
You were being led through the long halls of the capitol building, a collar around your neck. The guards could give you a small shock whenever they so pleased if you tried to run or do anything unsavory.
They had found you stealing fruits off one of the carts in the market. Normally, you would have had your hands whipped and spent a night in jail. But this cart that you had so stupidly failed to see had the symbol of the capitol on it. It had been dark, early morning, and you had failed to see it as you snuck around. The envoy had apparently come to the market as the vendors were arriving to fetch the best of the crops for the council members. Stealing from the capitol meant trial there and you were drug from your mountainous outskirt town to the city with others to face the highest court for your crime.
You were brought to a room and shoved inside; the door closed behind you. A man was sitting behind a desk, waiting patiently.
“Sit,” he invited, gesturing at the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “My name is Tsu. I’ll be your counselor for the day if you decide to utilize my offer.”
Cautiously, you did what he asked, sinking into the chair. He picked up a device — you had only ever seen guards that patrolled through your town with them — and clicked it on. A picture came to life, and you watched with awe as he was able to control it with his movements of his hand in the air.
“I have your basic information that they collected upon your arrest. Name, date of birth, crime. But I need to know what it is you do...”
“‘Do’?”
“Your profession.”
“I don’t have a profession. I’m going to trial.”
“Everyone has a profession.”
You stayed silent, not wanting to give this capitol worker any more information than he already had on you. Your town did well enough staying out of their way and business, keeping to yourselves besides when they demanded crops. Giving away too much about yourself seemed unwise.
Tsu eyed you and asked suspiciously, “Was it a, let’s say, less prestigious profession that you are more inclined to not disclose?”
You saw he was eyeing your arms and then neck causing you to you ask, “What do you mean?”
“Do you know women here in the city — and many other places in the kingdom for that matter — are tattooed?”
“I’ve seen people passing through with them yes.”
“Tattoos are normal, expected even. Your body is a canvas. And having the freedom to do with your skin as you please is a status symbol.” You stared at him dumbly, not picking up what he was trying to get at. He sighed, lowering the technological device and leveled with you, “Ladies of the night do not have tattoos. They’re not free and their skin is kept clear to show that. And to me, you look like ink has never touched your skin. Am I correct?”
Heat came to your cheeks, and you sputtered offended, “I’m not a lady of the night! I worked for the local librarian if you need to know! It just didn’t pay well, and I was hungry!”
So much for not giving him information. But he had provoked you. You were always told you had a temper.
“So, you’re saying yes your skin is clear?”
“Yes it is but I’m not a trollop!”
“It matters not. It will invite unwanted attention from people here in the city. And trust me, the higher up they are in status, the bolder they will be about assuming you are... open.”
Exasperated, you asked, “What does this have to do with my trial?”
Tsu shrugged, “With my help, you may not have to go to trial. You’ll just be sentenced to work in the capitol building. Here. I’m just trying to explain to you briefly how some things work. And I was merely asking what you did so I could better place you. If you were working nights, then, there is a spot for you, despite your immediate disdain for the profession. But, if that’s not the case, then I can find you something else here.”
“For how long?” you asked upset.
Tsu shrugged and said, “The typical time for a crime in your bracket is a year.” Your stomach dropped. An entire year spent here? Wearing a collar? Away from your home. “If you are outstanding — and someone happens to notice, which is rare — you could have a couple months shaved off. The other way, if you are unsuitable or enrage someone, they could seek to extend your sentence.”
“So, I am to be at the mercy of these wealthy, spoiled assholes’ whims?” You demanded before you could stop yourself.
That drew the briefest of smirks out of hum before he cleared his throat and said, “As assuming as it is for me to hear you share that behind closed doors with me, because it is true, I would watch your tongue very closely. That’s something that would most certainly get your sentence extended.”
“Noted,” you muttered, sinking back into your seat.
Tsu turned the tablet towards you and said, “If you would prefer to do what I am offering instead of facing trial and time in a cell, sign here stating you understand the conditions.”
You stared at the tablet, weighing your options. This way, you knew exactly what you were getting into and having knowledge and a plan seemed a comfort than going in blind. Reaching forward, you held out your hand.
“Use your finger. There’s no pen.”
Tracing your name, you watched it appear in gold before solidifying in black in the document.
“Perfect. Let’s get you changed into a servant’s gown. And get that collar off.” The collar was going to come off? He must have seen the shock on your face. “You’ll be given an ankle bracelet. It will look delicate, beautiful even, but trust me, it won’t break. And they’ll get an alert if there’s a lot of pressure aka you trying to do so. And that can also get you added time.”
<><><>
It only took half a day for you to find yourself in more trouble. You had been following Tsu as he gave you a tour around the castle and you had stopped as the two of you crossed a bridge. You had been transfixed by the sight of the city, your hands coming to rest on the balcony as you took it in.
You felt a hand at your ass before it cupped, and breath was hot on your ear.
“My, my, I don’t think I’ve seen you before, lovely,” the man rasped.
“Don’t touch me, you piece of shit!” you exclaimed, whipping around and shoving him. He stumbled back away from you, barely catching his balance having been so caught off guard by your reaction. You doubted the people here ever received pushback from servants. He looked furious.
“What did she just say?” the man demanded, coming for you but someone stepped in his way.
This other man was blonde, short haired. “There’s no need to maim the girl here in public, is there?”
The first man looked ready to explode but he grated, “Did you hear what she said to me, Master Barton? She—"
“I have ears and they’re perfect, so yes I did hear what she said,” Barton replied coolly.
Tsu had come back to your side — how far had he gotten, talking to himself, before he realized you were not behind him? He pulled you a few paces away.
“What’s going on, sir?”
Before Barton could say anything, the man spat, “That little wench shoved me and swore at me!”
Tsu inhaled deeply before hissing in your ear, “Did you hear nothing of what I spoke?” You opened your mouth to protest but he continued on in a hushed whisper, “This whole thing can possibly be fixed if you just go apologize. And if you do this I’m going to have to grab the back of your neck without any resistance from you.”
“Gods,” you breathed.
“I’m serious.”
You gave the slightest of nods before Tsu’s hand was tight around the back of your neck and he walked you past Barton to the man. He was staring at you ferociously, like he wanted to tear you apart.
“She’s just arrived today but that doesn’t excuse her actions. She would like to beg your forgiveness,” Tsu told him, and his fingers flexed, signaling for you to start.
You had dealt with bullies before. You could do this.
Trying to keep the disdain out of your tone, you said, “I’m sorry for being enraged and acting impulsively. It was uncouth of me. I’m new and I am trying to learn how to act respectively with your customs. I beg your forgiveness.” You quickly added, “Sir.”
The man straightened out his shirt before sneering, “These little whores keep getting more brazen. Keep them in line!”
With that he turned on his heel and stormed off.
Tsu let go of your neck and he breathed easier that it had not escalated, and the man had begrudgingly accepted your apology. You caught Barton watching and he winked at you before turning on his heel and leaving as well.
<><><>
Tony was watching the screen of the security footage with arousal swimming in his eyes, his fingers at his lips at the woman. He was insatiable at times with his lust — the whorehouse a place he frequently relished in. He turned his attention to Steve.
Steve was cold at first, displeased by the mountain girl’s behavior towards one of the council members. But upon seeing her come back and apologize, a small smirk broke out.
“Thought you might find that interesting,” Clint commented, leaning against the wall. “Seems there’s a little hellion now in our midst.”
Tony paused the recording on a close up of her face and Steve leaned forward. He studied her for a few moments before telling the guards.
“Send her our way,” he ordered. “We’ve needed a new chambermaid. And I haven’t had to break a new one in in a while.”
“Cause she definitely didn’t mean a word of that apology. Look at that fire in her eyes,” Tony chuckled, strolling closer to the screen, looking at her face on the paused screen. Quietly to himself more than anything, his fingers tapping his lips, he said, “No... no you didn’t, did you, little vixen?” He was drinking the sight of her in, and he adjusted his pants, already titillating himself at the thoughts playing in his mind. Turning away from the screen on one foot, he went back for his goblet, taking a drink. He smacked his lips and vowed, “She’ll mean it when we ask for an apology. Of that I am certain.”
“Whatever she’s been assigned, reassign her to our villa community,” Steve added. “She’ll have plenty work there to learn her manners.”
~~~
Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney
#tony stark x reader#steve rogers x reader#dark tony stark#dark steve rogers#dark stony#stony x reader#dark marvel#my shit
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Drowning in the Past // Luke Patterson
Summary: Julie’s estranged older sister returns home after a shameful night from New York City. Band on hiatus reader is forced to come home to face the consequences her actions had, including her hurt younger sister. In finding herself she happens to discover friends on her journey.
Warning: Swearing, talk of alcohol and drugs, underage drinking, grief, sex, angst and some fluff.
Words: 2.4k
A/N What if Julie had a sister in a successful signed band named Graveyard Petals.
Part Two - Healed by the Music (Coming soon!)
Masterlist
Blowing a raspberry with pursed lips, you prepared yourself for the lecture that would happen the minute your foot crossed the front door. The last year had been one of the hardest dealing with the sudden death of your mother and dealing it with as best as you could. Everything was going moderately okay with the band, but you fucked up three days ago. Typically you knew the limits with alcohol but with the anniversary of losing your mom and attending an after-party was a massive mistake.
Especially when the tabloid released unflattering photos of you needed help from your bandmates getting to the car. Unaware until the next morning when the phone rang.
The shrill round of a ringtone blasted into your sleep pulling you into a blistering hangover and groans. The night before was a blur. Hand tapping the table you grasped the phone blinding pressing the screen until you lucked out on the green circle.
“What the hell were you thinking?” The shout flung you upright, “You got drunk? You’re eighteen! We had a deal.”
“Dad.” You groaned rubbing your head. Going entirely still when you felt the covers shift, terrified, you glanced over to see a body in the bed.
Oh my god. Your eyes widened clueing into the stranger in the bed just as naked, and you were on the phone with Dad. You scrambled into the adjoining bathroom to the hotel room.
“Y/N, you said you stopped. Why did you lie?” Ray Molina asked his daughter clenching the bridge of his nose, “Your Tía called me this morning and send a link to a lovely article. My eldest daughter, my responsible daughter, intoxicated, being held up by her friends.”
“I know. It’s just it was Mom-“
“I know what yesterday was. You should have known it was a bad idea to drink. I called Lucy. You’re coming home. That’s final.”
Ray’s voice was solemn as he spoke utterly disappointed in you before it went to shit further. The safety of the bathroom shattering when the door opened and the acoustics of the room amplifying the voice.
“Hey, last night was amazing. If you’re ever in town again, just call me.”
“Y/N Molina.” The words were tense, “You better be home immediately. We will be talking about this.”
The phone hung up, and your head fell to your knees, sinking into the shame brought by your actions. You had naively overlooked the negatives of the lifestyle
The SUV came to a stop outside the home who hadn’t been in for the past year. You typically avoided it by living in the house with your band.
“I want you to take the break to find yourself again. Heal.” Lucy spoke, turning to stare at you, “I took a chance on your band, I went against Andi Parker. Please don’t make me regret doing it. You’ll be staying here and reconnecting with your family.”
You wordlessly nodded to her words before climbing out of the SUV where the driver had put the suitcase. Most of your things were still in your childhood bedroom. You wandered up to the front door at a glacial pace, hoping to avoid what would happen in the house.
“Y/N.” The door was open with your dad standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and an expression he didn’t often have. A look of pure disappointment, “Go to the kitchen.”
A sigh fell from your lips as you nodded your head as you wandered into the homey place your mother had adored cooking in. She loved music and cooking almost as much as she loved her family. In the kitchen, your sister was doing homework. Julie avoided music because of the death of your mother and you fleeing.
“Julie,” Ray spoke, getting the sixteen-year old’s attention, her eyes shuttering as you met her gaze. Julie’s eyebrows came together with a look of heartbreak and left her homework to flee up to her room.
“I’m sorry.” You spoke, looking at the table as Ray sat across from you. You stared at the chip on the edge from when you cut your scalp running after Julie as a kid.
“Lucy agreed that you need to be home. You kept it hidden very well, but until you can get yourself together, you will not be touring. Until I deem it okay, you will fix your relationship with Carlos and Julie. You will volunteer for Julie’s school program, and you will not be allowed at any party.” Ray spoke, “I could make your punishment worse. I also want you to get yourself checked.”
You winced remembering he was well aware of your one night stand after hearing the person’s voice.
“I don’t have any-“
“I don’t care. I don’t know if you’ve been with one person or more, but you need to be checked out.”
Ray left the girl, “Remember why you love music so much. Your mom wouldn’t like who her daughter turned out to be.”
That broke your heart more because he was right. You were exactly how your mother raised you not to be.
Your eyes stayed locked on the black nail polish that matched the nose ring you had gotten a few months back. Hair dyed with streaks was another rebellious choice. You had changed so much from the girl that had gotten a record deal with her band.
Without even realizing your feet left the house to stand in front of the studio, you avoided. What was once a place of love and happiness was tarnished by the loss of the woman who introduced you to music. A place where you learned how to play the piano when your feet couldn’t touch the pedal. Where you had caused callously painstakingly learning guitar.
“Why are you here?” Your back stiffened at Julie’s hostile tone, “Don’t you have some country to be in.”
“No. I messed up.” You spoke roughly playing with the ring on your finger. The necklace in your pocket felt like it was burning.
“Whatever.” Julie scoffed brushing passed to open the doors to the studio. Her hands slammed the doors closed in your own hurt face.
Julie stomped to the piano, ignoring the other people in the room as she slammed the piano open. Her fingers shaking as they came to rest on the white keys, but the tears flowed down her cheeks. It was bittersweet to see you back in the house after months of dodging her calls, and finally, when you come home, it’s because you got into trouble.
“Are you okay?” Reggie asked the Molina girl. Her red eyes meeting the three ghosts in the room, “You were kinda yelling out there.”
Luke was uncomfortable at the tears he saw running down Julie’s cheeks glancing at the closed garage doors. It terrified him when girls cried. He never knew exactly how to comfort them.
“Yeah. Someone I thought I knew is out there.” Julie scoffed, “I don’t think I’m the best to be rehearsing with.”
“Come on, Julie! I’m sorry! You deserve an explanation. I’m a terrible sister.” You called from outside. The band shared a look of surprise as they had absolutely no clue Julie had another sibling.
Julie grunted stomping to the doors with a furious expression, the aggressiveness of opening them startling you. Standing across from Julie was a girl that the three didn’t know and so unlike Julie. You had a ripped band shirt tied in the back to make a form-fitting crop top, high waisted jeans. Hair dyed and a piercing set you so far from Julie.
“You’re playing again?” You smiled, looking at the piano ready to be played, but Julie didn’t react, “Mom would be proud of you.”
“One of us shouldn’t be a disappointment.” Julie snapped.
“Oh, damn!” Reggie exclaimed to the guys, “Julie really went for the throat.”
His words took your full attention to see three guys in very ’90s like clothing intently watching your interaction with your sister. Julie was surprised you could see them but her anger and hurt overpowered that part.
“Look I’m really sorry for how I’ve been acting.” You sighed stepping closer only to stop when Julie stepped back, “I never wanted to hurt you but Jules you shouldn’t have to see how I was acting. I haven’t been a good role model.”
“You still hurt me. I needed you.” Julie’s voice cracked as she wrapped her arms around her, “If they hadn’t come into my life, I wouldn’t have played again.”
“You needed someone who wasn’t doing what I was doing.”
“What were you doing?” Julie softly asked. You hesitated on telling her the truth, but she needed to know why it was best she hadn’t been exposed to your behaviour.
“Will you listen?” You asked the younger girl. She nodded, so you led her to the couch that had come with the place. Julie sat on one end of the sofa while curled your legs under you.
The guys followed right after and honestly, you didn’t care if they heard.
“Last year, when Mom was sick, I wasn’t there. I was there the day she passed, but I was selfish. It was stupid, but I honestly thought she would be okay.” You softly began reopening a wound that hadn’t healed, “I know she was proud and pushed me to continue, but I shouldn’t have. The more time passed, the harder it was to see me.”
“You guys were getting more popular.” Julie shrugged, “I’ve always been proud that you chased your dream.”
“I know. That dream came with negative parts though Jules. To cope, I started drinking, I changed my hair, got a piercing, experimented with some illicit things and I…uh…slept with a few people. I was never meant to sleep around, I commend people that do and love that but it’s not for me. I tried to change myself because I thought I could change how I felt.”
Julie was silent, scanning your features and the changes she had been blinded from with rage and pain. It felt like part of you was missing, there was an emptiness in your eyes and your shoulders were drooped, and you didn’t have that smile.
“Things really went to shit, pardon my language. It’s another change.” You winced at the word choice, “Mom’s anniversary was on the same night we went to an awards show. I had gotten drunk, but I performed at the show still good.”
“GP won two awards.” Julie grinned, “You were wearing the ring.”
You raised your index finger where a simple ring had sat for years, one that matched the one on Julie’s finger. You may have taken the Virgin Mary necklace off, but you could never take the ring you had with Julie off.
“My faith took a nosedive.” You admitted reaching into your pocket for the Virgin Mary necklace, “I didn’t feel like it was right to wear this and live how I was. Anyway at the after party I got extremely drunk, James and Iris had to help me to the car. Tabloids came out the next morning, and Dad called.”
You winced remembering the nasty hangover and the rather shameful lapse of memory. You still have no clue the exact details with the one nightstand.
“Ooh. Tía sent him a link? She was looking after Carlos. It was a lot of Spanish.” Julie winced remembering the shocking words leaving the older woman’s mouth.
“Oh, it gets worse. Just as the call was about to end…my hookup made their appearance.”
Julie choked, “You slept with someone?!”
“Hollywood life.” You weakly replied, making jazz hands, “So for the next few months I’ll be here.”
Julie was quiet, “Well if it makes you feel better. These guys are Luke, Reggie, and Alex. They’re ghosts.”
You were silent, staring at the younger Molina taking in the news better than she had expected, “I can’t judge after the past year.”
Helping Julie with her band and spending time with your family was more healing than finding the bottom of a bottle was. You attended a few sessions with Dr Turner and finally rediscovered the love of music. You often fielded questions from the guys too.
“What’s your band’s name?” Luke asked, placing his chin in his hands, listening intently to hearing your stories.
“Graveyard Petals.” You chuckled with a wide grin, “My mom had a band with petals in the title, so I wanted to honour her. Our band was driving to a gig still trying to figure out a name when we went past a cemetery and the name kinda just clicked.”
“That’s so cool!” Reggie spoke with a wide grin, “God, I wish we got the chance.”
“It has its moments.” You shrugged, “I’m actually meeting up with them in a few hours if you wanted to come?”
The guys nodded their heads each sporting a broad grin at the suggestion.
“We’ve all been finding ourselves again. My mom was our mentor, so it hit all of us hard, but I acted out worse.”
Luke’s eyes couldn’t help but notice that your necklace was resting on the hollow your neck just like Julie. A lightness came over him seeing that you had been finding yourselves once more.
“You seem happier,” Alex noted, leaning his elbows on his knees because he was right. In the time you had been home, you had changed your hair back to its natural colour, and your skin wasn’t as sickly pale as before.
“I am.” You smiled glancing at Luke, “I’m thrilled I got to meet you guys. I feel like if that tabloid hasn’t come out, I would have overdosed or drank myself to death.”
You hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in months now. Music poured out of yourself with such a healing aspect you couldn’t believe it. You dad was ecstatic his little girl had found her way back to her true self.
Reggie and Alex glanced at each other before poofing out to leave Luke there with you. There was something between Luke and you that made the two boys happy. You each deserved happiness.
“So can I see some of your songs?” Luke asked with a soft smile that tugged at your heartstrings. You grabbed the notebook from your guitar case covered in doodles before opening it to a half-written song.
“So this is very raw and special to me.” You spoke glancing up at the teenage boy with a sparkle that hasn’t been seen in over a year, “It’s called Sober.”
Part Two - Healed by the Music
Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)
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#luke patterson imagines#luke patterson x reader#julie and the phantoms imagines#luke patterson x y/n#julie and the phantoms#luke patterson#jatp luke#jatp fanfic#charlie gillespie imagines#caitsy and ash productions
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Animation Task 4 - Pitch for “The Amber Castle”
I am so sorry about the audio, but I just can’t listen to my voice again for a while. My camera wouldn’t work on powerpoint so I got a free trial on a random programme that could record both for me, then that had a MASSIVE watermark over it and the programme cost $300+ soooo, I got another app that could screen record the video and then I cropped it. Technology and I don’t really understand each other very well....
That rant aside, I did put a lot of research and preparation into this pitch (note the formal dress) so hopefully despite the poor quality of the presentation, you can still appreciate the contents of my pitch.
28/2/2022
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My Spy - Chapter 8
A/N: I know I said I was going to jump ahead about 6 months but decided to put the events that occurred during that time here for context later. I hope you enjoy what I've done.
One month later, in Copenhagen, Denmark, the Barden Bellas had become the first U.S. team to win the World Acapella Championships.
"I can't believe we won," Stacie said as the Bellas gathered in Beca's room.
"I can't believe DSM was a no-show," Flo said. "I wonder what happened to cause them to drop out."
"Who cares?" Jessica said. "We won and the Bellas live to sing another day!"
The Bellas started yelling and cheering.
"Um, guys!" Beca yelled over the noise. "I love that we won, but look at this."
Beca turned her laptop toward the girls and they all quieted when they saw the news article on the screen.
"Members of the award-winning German singing group, DSM, were arrested during a drug raid in New York," CR read aloud. "Beloved leaders Kommissar and Pieter were killed during a shootout with the FBI. Wow!"
"Oh, my stars," Emily said, reading further in the article. "They were drug smugglers."
"Do you think Chloe was involved in killing them?" Fat Amy asked.
"Why is that the first thing you'd think of?" Beca asked, glaring at Amy. "Chloe isn't the only FBI agent out there."
"It just seems fishy to me," Fat Amy said. "Although, if she was, we might just have to send her a nice gift for eliminating our only real competition."
"You don't think we could have beaten DSM if they had been here?" Ashley asked, looking at Fat Amy.
Before Amy could respond, Beca spoke up.
"I think we would have won no matter what. We had a great set, precision choreography, plus an original song and some of the old Bellas performing with us. There is no way we could have lost."
"Beca's right," Aubrey said. "And I for one think we should celebrate the fact that the Bellas are the World Champions."
"Woo hoo!" Stacie yelled out, causing the Bellas to start cheering and yelling again.
Beca stood off to the side, watching the celebration unfold. While in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe Chloe had been involved in taking down the leaders of DSM.
~~ My Spy ~~
The Bellas had been back home in the U.S. for two months. The pomp and accolades from the win had died down after a few weeks, and the Bellas had moved on to other things.
CR had gotten married in Maine and all the Bellas managed to attend.
Jessica and Ashley were living and working together in Atlanta.
Emily was preparing to be the Captain of a new crop of Bellas.
Flo had found a job working on a juice truck in the hopes of someday owning and operating one of her own.
Stacie was a fitness instructor in an up-and-coming gym near Barden University.
Aubrey had returned to run the Lodge of Fallen Leaves, even though she still hated it.
Nobody is sure what Lily was doing, and none of them had the guts to ask.
Beca and Amy had moved to New York together and were sharing a one-room apartment in Brooklyn.
Beca was walking home from her job at the recording studio when her phone rang. She was shocked to see Chloe's name on her caller ID.
"Chloe?" Beca questioned as she answered the call.
"Yeah, Beca, it's me," Chloe said. "It's so good to finally hear your voice."
"You, too," Beca said, stopping at the entrance to her apartment building.
Beca sat down on the step but didn't say anything; Chloe could hear her breathing.
"So, I understand congratulations are in order," Chloe finally said.
"Congratulations?" Beca asked.
"Yeah," Chloe said. "I heard the Bellas won the World Acapella Championship."
"Oh, right," Beca said, looking around. "We did."
Beca's heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe she was actually talking to Chloe after so many near misses and almost conversations; she was hearing Chloe's voice for the first time in a little over three years.
"So, um, what are you up to these days?" Beca asked, mentally face-palming herself.
"I'm actually on another assignment," Chloe said.
"Oh, um," Beca said. "Were you involved in that whole DSM thing? Never mind, you don't have to answer that."
"I kind of was," Chloe said. "But, I can't really talk about it. The AG still has to prosecute those arrested."
"AG?" Beca asked.
"Attorney General," Chloe responded.
"Oh, um, I see," Beca said and went silent
Chloe could hear the sounds of traffic and the hustle and bustle of people on the streets.
"Beca?" Chloe asked after a few minutes of Beca not saying anything. "Are you okay?"
"What?" Beca asked, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, yeah. I'm, uh, I'm good."
"Is it always going to be this awkward between us?" Chloe asked with a sigh; she wasn't sure if she really wanted to know the answer.
Beca sighed, too. "God, I hope not," she said, laughing at herself. "I've really missed hearing your voice, seeing your face. Hell, who am I kidding? I miss everything about you."
Chloe chuckled softly. "I feel the same way about you."
Beca smiled and relaxed back against the door.
"So, I was wondering what you might be doing two weeks from Saturday?" Chloe asked.
"Nothing that I can think of," Beca said. "Why?"
"I'm coming back to the U.S. in two weeks for some meetings in New York," Chloe said.
"You're coming to New York?!" Beca asked, sitting upright.
"Yeah," Chloe said. "I was, um, wondering if you'd let me take you out. On a date. We can talk and maybe start fresh on a relationship."
"Hell yeah!" Beca responded, her smile stretching from ear to ear. "I'm in. Just tell me where and when and I'll be there."
Chloe chuckled. "I'll figure out a place and let you know."
"Looking forward to it," Beca said sincerely.
"Me, too," Chloe said.
Beca heard a muffled voice call for Chloe in the background.
"I'm sorry, Beca," Chloe said. "I have to go. But, I'll call you again once I figure out where to take you on our date."
"Okay," Beca said. "I still, um, lo-." Beca quickly swallowed what she was going to say and cleared her throat. "I, uh, am looking forward to seeing you. Um, for our date."
"I still love you, too, Beca," Chloe said, smiling as she ended the call.
~~ My Spy ~~
Amy came home to find Beca sitting on the fold-out bed, staring at her phone with a goofy grin on her face.
"What's going on over there?" Fat Amy asked, looking over at Beca.
"What do you mean?"
"You have a goofy grin on your face," Fat Amy said. "What's that all about?"
"Chloe called me," Beca said.
"For real?" Fat Amy asked. "What did she have to say?"
"She's coming to New York and asked me out to dinner," Beca said.
"She asked you out on a date?"
"Yep."
"That's amazing, Beca," Fat Amy said. "How does she sound? What else did she say?"
"She sounds good," Beca said. "She said she was on an assignment out of the country and was coming back in 2 weeks. That's when she asked me out. I was going to tell her I still loved her, but I chickened out at the last second. But she did say she still loved me before the call ended."
"She did?"
"Yeah," Beca said. "I'm really excited to finally get to see her in person. I wonder if she's changed?"
"Will you actually get to see her is the real question," Fat Amy said "She always seems to be canceling on you because of her job."
"Not this time," Beca said, with more confidence than she felt. "This time we're really going to be together."
"Then I really am happy for you, Beca," Fat Amy said. "And I'll be here for you if she cancels again."
Beca sighed and shook her head. "I'm hungry. Want to order something for delivery? My treat."
"I'm hungry, too," Fat Amy said. "Can we get pizza?"
~~ My Spy ~~
Chloe called Beca a week later to confirm their date.
"I hope you still like Italian food," Chloe said. "I made a reservation at a place called Terre on Fifth Avenue. One of the guys from work recommended it. I checked them out online and the food looks and sounds amazing."
"I do still love Italian food," Beca said. "And I've heard good things about Terre. What time is the reservation?"
"I made them for six," Chloe said. "Is that okay?"
"That's perfect," Beca said. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you."
"I'm looking forward to seeing you, too," Chloe said. "Do you want me to pick you up?"
"That's okay," Beca said. "It's not that far from my apartment. I'll walk."
"Okay," Chloe said. "So, how's work? Did you have a good day?"
Beca chuckled and proceeded to tell Chloe about her job, and her day. They spent close to an hour catching up. When the call was over, Beca realized she had done most of the talking; she didn't learn anything about what Chloe had been up to.
"I guess I'll find out more when we have our date," Beca thought.
~~ My Spy ~~
It was finally date night and Chloe was really nervous as she got to the restaurant early. She was sitting alone at her table, watching the door, hoping each time someone new came in, it would be Beca. She started looking at the menu and was startled when someone plopped down in the seat across from her.
"Jason," Chloe said when she saw him sitting in Beca's seat. "What the Hell are you doing here?"
"Director Collins asked me to join you so I can speak to Beca," Jason said.
"What the actual fuck?" Chloe whisper-yelled, slamming down her menu. She looked around to make sure no one could overhear. "I told the Director I did not want Beca involved in the investigation at all."
"He thinks she's our only option to get to Patricia Hobart," Jason whispered across the table. "Which in turn will get us to Fergus Hobart."
"There has to be a better way," Chloe said, running a hand through her hair. "Why don't you take Amy in and question her? You don't need Beca for that."
"Because we don't have an evidentiary reason to," Jason said, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I get you don't want to involve Beca, but I've been ordered to explain everything to her and find out if Patricia Hobart has mentioned anything about her father's dealings."
"That's unacceptable-"
"Hey, Chloe."
Chloe jerked her head up to see Beca standing at the table. Her heart started beating faster and she quickly jumped up to pull Beca into a hug.
"I'm so glad you're here," Chloe whispered in Beca's ear. "I've missed you so much."
Beca pulled out of the hug and looked at Jason. "So, um, who's your friend?"
Chloe couldn't stop the warm feeling that went through her when she noticed a hint of jealousy in Beca's eyes.
"He's nobody," Chloe said, turning to glare at Jason. "And he was just leaving."
Jason stood and held out this hand. "Miss Mitchell, I'm Agent Jason Parker, Chloe's partner. I have a few questions I need to ask you."
"No!" Chloe said, looking at Jason. "Not here and definitely not now."
Jason looked around and saw a few people looking over at them. He sighed and looked back at Chloe.
"Then where and when?" Jason asked.
"How about never and nowhere?" Chloe retorted.
"Um, what's this all about?" Beca asked.
"It's nothing," Chloe told Beca. She turned to Jason, saying, "You can go now. You're in Beca's seat."
"Miss Mitchell," Jason said, ignoring Chloe. He lowered his voice as he spoke directly to Beca. "What do you know about Patricia Hobart's father?"
"You mean, Fat Amy?" Beca asked.
"Yes."
"She said both her parents were killed before she came to the U.S. to attend Barden. What's this all about? And why are you asking me about Amy's father?"
"We are helping Australian authorities investigate Mr. Hobart," Jason said, keeping his voice low. "And we believe his daughter may know something about his illegal enterprises."
Beca stared at Jason for a moment before turning her eyes to Chloe. Chloe's heart broke when she saw Beca's eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"That's why you wanted to see me?" Beca said. "To use me to get information from Amy on her father?"
"No, Beca," Chloe said. "I wanted to see you because I've missed you. I wanted nothing to do with dragging you or Amy into any part of the investigation. You have to believe me."
Chloe reached out for Beca and Beca moved away from her.
"I. . .can't," Beca said, holding up her hands. "I'm don't with whatever this is. I have to go."
Beca turned and started walking away. She wiped a tear from her cheek as she went.
"Beca, wait!" Chloe cried out.
Beca kept walking and Chloe started after her. Jason grabbed Chloe's arm to stop her.
"Let her go," Jason said. "I'll try again later when she's had a chance to calm down."
"No!" Chloe pulled her arm away from Jason. "You've done enough. Now, get the fuck away from me!"
Jason sighed and let Chloe go. Chloe ran out to try and catch up to Beca.
Chloe got outside the restaurant and looked up and down the street, hoping to spot Beca. She didn't see her anywhere.
"Fuck!" Chloe screamed up to the sky.
Jason walked out of the restaurant and heard Chloe. He walked over to her.
"Chloe?" Jason said, getting Chloe's attention. "I'm sorry."
"Fuck you," Chloe said.
"Okay, I deserve that," Jason said. "If you're done cussing me out, we should really go back to the office and give the Director a report."
"You and the Director can kiss my ass," Chloe said.
"Come on, Chloe," Jason said. "I was just following orders. Come with me and help me explain what happened. I've been your partner for over five years, that should account for something."
"Fine," Chloe spit out. "I'll go with you, but don't expect to be on your side in this."
~~ My Spy ~~
Beca stormed into her apartment and slammed the door behind her. She threw her bag on the sofa and toed off her shoes, leaving them by the door.
"You're home early," Fat Amy said. "What happened?"
"She, he, they, ugh!" Beca sputtered. "I'm so mad I can't even talk."
Fat Amy got up and led Beca over to sit at their dining room table. "I'll get you some water."
Fat Amy reached over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, handing it to Beca.
Beca removed the top and took a large drink from the bottle.
"Thanks," she said. "I needed that."
"Can you tell me what happened with Chloe?"
"When I got there, there was some guy sitting with her. I greeted Chloe and asked who the guy was. She said he was nobody, but the guy stood and introduced himself as her partner Jason."
"I thought Chloe was gay," Fat Amy said.
Beca looked at her with furrowed brows. "No, not that kind of partner. Her work partner."
"Oh," Fat Amy said. "So, why was he there?"
"He said they had some questions to ask me about-." Bec stopped herself, unsure of whether she should tell Amy that the FBI was working with Australian police to investigate her father.
"Ask you questions about what?"
Beca remained silent and played with the label on her water bottle. Beca let out a sigh and looked at Amy.
"About, um, you."
"Me? What about me?"
"Actually, they wanted to know more about your father and what you might know of his illegal activities."
"What?" Fat Amy said and looked down at the floor. "Why are you mad about that? I told you my father was dead."
"I know," Beca said. "And that's what I told them. But, they seem to think he's alive and that you know something."
Fat Amy didn't say anything as she continued to look down at the floor, unable to meet Beca's eyes.
"Oh, my God," Beca said, staring at Amy. "You do know something. I told Chloe I was done with whatever was happening because I thought she only wanted to see me so she could use me to get to you." A tear made its way down Beca's cheek. "I accused her of lying about why she wanted to see me. I thought I was protecting you from her, but instead, I may have just lost the love of my life for good."
"I'm sorry about all that, Beca," Fat Amy said. "For what it's worth, I don't really know anything about what my dad might be accused of doing. I just know he's a bad man who does bad things. And as far as I'm concerned he is dead to me."
"Would you be willing to talk to the FBI and tell them that?" Beca asked, sniffling and wiping away more tears.
"If it will help make things right between you and Chloe, I'll do it."
~~ My Spy ~~
Jason and Chloe arrived at the office. The Director was standing in the middle of the room, talking to another agent. As soon as Chloe saw the Director, she marched up to him and got in his face.
"How dare you!" Chloe yelled. "You sent Jason to interrogate Beca while we were on a date. I told you I didn't want her to have anything to do with the investigation. If you wanted Amy to answer questions, you should have had Jason get her and bring her in, not blindside me by going after Beca while we were on our date."
"Chloe, calm down," the Director said, looking around at the other agents in the room.
"No, I will not calm down," Chloe said. "You knew what this date meant to me. How important it was. I've given up so much for this job. Why couldn't I just have this one thing, Uncle Matt? Why couldn't you leave Beca out of this?"
"Because we firmly believe Beca Mitchell is our best option at getting Patricia Hobart to tell us everything she knows about her father," the Director said.
"That's fucking bullshit and you know it!" Chloe yelled.
"Chloe," the Director said through gritted teeth. "I am the Director and will not allow you to talk to me like that."
"You don't like the way I talk to you, Director?" Chloe said, her voice rising. "Well, you're going to really hate this. Go fuck yourself because I quit!"
With that, Chloe turned and started walking away, leaving a shocked Director standing stone-faced as he watched her walk out the door and disappear into the hallway.
Jason called after Chloe but didn't make a move to follow her.
Chloe heard Jason but did not stop or turn around.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Don't hate me.
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carolina
pairing - emily prentiss x reader
summary - you meet emily in a bar, she doesn’t realize who you are until she hears a song about her on the radio
warnings - nsfw mentions (nothing graphic), cursing
series masterlist
the second emily layed eyes on you, she was instantly captivated.
you sat at the bar, your back pressed against the counter. a drink was in your hand, your cherry red lips occasionally taking a sip. you were observing the crowd, a slightly smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
and then came your outfit. tight black jeans and heels, a silver sparkly cropped tank as your top. a gold necklace was around your neck and hair in your natural style, or what she assumed was.
while emily could have stayed in her spot sneaking glances ever so often, a gentle shove to her back made her tear away her gaze. “emily come on, i need a drink,” j.j. teased.
the three girls pushed further into the venue, already buzzing about their night out.
penelope had been raving about a bar she had discovered. it wasn’t downtown, further away from everything in location. it was a more formal bar in details such as a taxi service and places to drop of coats and accessories if needed.
with no case being presented, they had all agreed to go out. after heading home and getting changed, they all met up to inevitably get drunk.
while j.j. and penelope quickly got drinks and headed out to socialize on the floor, emily decided to head over to the counter.
you shot a smile at the woman who slid into the seat beside you. she cooly ordered a drink, spinning around to face the same direction as you.
“going with a daiquiri? i can’t blame you, they’re my favorite,” you smiled, figuring you might as well introduce yourself to the woman beside you.
“i’m y/n,” you greeted.
“emily,” she replied.
you never really fell hard for someone, let alone a stranger. but something about emily was different. maybe it was her looks, her raven hair and dark brown eyes were nothing short of beautiful. or the way she spoke, her name flowing easily as she introduced herself.
maybe it was a combination of the two and her personality already begining to make an appearance. all the times you rolled your eyes at people mentioning love at first sight were really contradicting themselves. maybe not love yet but you knew emily was special.
“who are you watching?” emily asked, being the first one to initiate small talk.
you raised your drink in the general sea of people dancing. “alice and mel,” as you spoke, you pointed towards the two girls, each occupied with others. “you?”
“penelope and j.j. can’t believe we’re both the designated sober friends.”
“oh i’m not, i would just much rather be here talking to you,” the flirty remark rolled off your tongue easily. a blush passed across her cheeks, a smile tugging at her lips.
you ordered a second drink, offering to get emily something if she wanted a second. after shaking her head ‘no,’ you shrugged and leaned back against the counter.
“so what brings you to this bar?” emily questioned.
“night off from the public eye. figured i would spend one of last days in the city out with my friends.”
the alcohol clouded emily’s thinking process a bit, not allowing her to process the first part of the question. “last day?”
you nodded, “i live in d.c. most of the time but i have some work which involves traveling. i’ll be back soon, you can definitely find me here at least once.”
another drink was ordered for the both of you, your attention focusing on emily.
“so what do you do for a living?” conversation flowed easily.
“not sure if i want to reveal it so easily. any guesses?” emily replied.
you leaned close to her face. “well,” you started, eyes flickering down to her waist. “i’m going to go with something in law enforcement.”
a brief shocked look passed over emily’s face letting you know you were right.
emily chuckled. “i’m a profiler for the fbi. though with your guess i’m not so sure you aren’t. how’d you know?”
“well you have an imprint of some clip on your side. adding on your pant pocket is stretched out, probably from some badge. i just put the two and two together and guessed,” you answered, taking another sip of your drink.
“alright, how about you? i’ll be honest, i have absolutely no idea what you do and have no clues.”
your heart fluttered at that. “it’s not important. it’s not anything bad, i promise. just would like to enjoy this night without having to think about work,” you answered truthfully.
talk went on, mostly about your mutual interests and introductory questions.
you were only interrupted when some guy took the now empty seat on your right. he opened his mouth to talk, probably some dumb pickup like, but you caught him off. “don’t even try, i don’t play for your team.” both for you were thankfully he left you alone.
emily grinned into her drink. “sorry about that. i really hate men sometimes,” you apologized. “no it’s okay i promise. i’ve had to deal with people like that for so long with my work. you think they would just realize that we just aren’t into them.”
maybe you did internally smile when you realized you may actually have a chance with her.
flirty remarks were tossed around after that, both of you completely forgetting about your friends who came with you.
“come with me to grab my coat?”
emily nodded, leaving her drink at the counter and following you back.
the two of you couldn’t have been away from the center room of the building for more than a few moments before your lips were on hers.
“already undressing me here? thought you’d be more classy than that y/n,” emily groaned as you pushed her jacket back. you hummed against her neck, moving to the pulse point along her jawline.
“come back to mine?” you mumbled in between kisses. emily nodded, “call a cab.”
the entire ride back, the tension was almost unbearable.
you tired to be quiet for the sake of the driver but emily’s occasionally kisses to your neck made it quite difficult. to add on to that, she kept her hand on your thigh, it trailing higher and higher up as you neared your location.
after paying your ride fee (with a pretty hefty tip), you pulled emily out of the cab and towards your apartment bulding. you could tell she was in slight awe just from the outside. but with one quick tug of her hand, she was following you once more.
you fumbled with your key trying to open your door after waving to those at the front and heading up the elevator.
when the door was pushed open, you waisted no time pushing emily in. the two of you moved as quick as possible, kicking off your shoes and slowly moving towards your bedroom.
“you sure you want to do this?”
the question made you grin, “absolutely.”
____
you woke up to the weight on your chest being lifted, the sound of sheets shifting as well. your eyes struggled to open, fighting with tiredness, especially from the night before.
it was easily one of the best experiences ever.
your eyes slid open, head lolling to the side to find the creator of the noise.
emily was sitting up, sheets pooled around her waist. her raven hair fell down her back, covering up the top half of her body.
“what’s up?” you asked, pulling the covers up over your bare chest.
“i need to get going if i want to shower and be at work on time,” emily rushed out, standing up to grab her clothing strewn across the room. “shit,” she mumbled upon seeing her very revealing shirt she wore last night. there was no way to could go home in that.
“just borrow one of mine,” you offered, keeping a pillow over your eyes to block out all of the light.
she mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ and was out the door without another word.
you later smiled to yourself at the shirt she chose.
____
neither of you could stop thinking about the night at the bar, well more the night after.
the bruises littering your neck served as a lasting reminder. the amount of concealer used in the days following was definitely a new record.
but, as always, life had to go on.
just like you had told emily, you had flown to los angeles the next day for work. well in your case, it meant photoshoots, writing music, and recording new songs.
with your hookup still in your mind, you channeled all your feelings about it into the best way you could.
emily went to work as normal, pounding through paperwork as no new case had been presented to the group.
j.j. and penelope has cornered her in the break room, already gushing out their girls night before bombarding her with questions. “where did you go that night? we looked around and one of the bartenders said you had already left.
“i know,” emily confirmed. “i saw your text.”
she grabbed her freshly made mug of coffee, already turning around to leave. j.j. followed, not quite done with figuring out where her friend went. “you met someone,” she concluded. “maybe i did j.j., i guess it’s a mystery.”
the conversation was done after that.
after work, everyone went their separate ways. the team all bid their goodbyes, each happy that they would be home on time.
emily grabbed her bag before heading out to her car, sitting in the drivers side for a few minutes before she could head out.
a text from penelope made her phone buzz. emily picked the device up before looking down at the screen and focusing on the message.
‘have you heard y/n y/l/n’s new song? oh my god it’s so good. i know you don’t really follow her but it sounds like your vibe. here’s a link with the cover art if you want to listen. i’m sure it’s playing on the radio too :)’ -p.g.
emily sucked in her breath as she read your name, mind already wandering back to the night at the bar. your words slowly pieced together in her mind, “night off, public eye, last day.” all were related to your status as a celebrity.
the first half of the song went by in a blur, emily only partially listening.
“she feels so good. i met her once and wrote a song about her, i wanna scream yeah i wanna shout it out, and i hope she hears me now,” your voice played out of the speakers.
there was absolutely no way those lyrics were about anyone else.
she examined the cover after listening to the entire song. it was fairly simple, having a more vintage vibe. you were seated on the end of a couch, arms resting on your knees and looking directly at the counter.
what initially caught her eye was your shirt. plastered across the white fabric was a band logo, the exact same one sitting in her drawer. even the small tear along the left shoulder stitching. it was the exact same one she had worn out of your apartment.
there were way to many factors for it to be a coincidence.
the lyrics. the shirt. your one night stand. it all just connected.
she was carolina.
☆ ☆ ☆
tags - @sapphicspence @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @zoseph @kissessfordraco @ogmilkis @cm-is-kinda-cool @matthewgublerswife @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @babyangellee @agentshortstacc
#criminal#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#jennifer jareau#david rossi#penelope garcia#luke alvez#matt simmons#tara lewis
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Poolside Views
AN: This came from an ask @be-ready-when-i-say-go sent me about Cal’s long hair. Then este guey had some audacity to work out, looking like a full course meal. Thank you to @chickensass for screen recording this and sending it to me, ilysm. As always thank you to @d-oaks for always taking time out of her day to beta read and edit my stuff.
Requested?: Kinda, Hunter sent me an ask that was supposed to be me just going ‘ashgdskjdsjk’ but it lead me to writing this.
Warnings: smut...kinda
Word Count: 2.3k words
"Your ass looks so good in those shorts." Calum said leaning against the makeup display and earning an eye roll from Claudia.
She dropped an eyeshadow brush into her basket and made her way over to the hair care section. Calum pushed off and followed her.
"You know you can give me your number and we can meet up for—"
"Hey, are you ready to go?" A girl asked while approaching Claudia. She gave Calum a suspicious look before smiling at Claudia. She leaned over to her. "Pretend you know me. Maybe he'll stop hitting on you."
It took Claudia a second to process what she meant. "Oh, no. This is my idiot boyfriend. He likes to hit on me for no reason. Sorry for that." She quickly explained.
"Oh."
"Sorry." Calum apologized. The girl gave Calum a final glare and walked over to the Urban Decay display.
Claudia turned around and playfully smacked Calum's arm. "Menso."
"I'm getting a smoothie. You want one?" Calum asked her.
"Please." She nodded. She reached for her bag, pulling out her wallet. She fished out a card. "Here, Danny gave me a gift card for my birthday a few years back and I always forget to use it."
He took the card and strolled over to the Jamba Juice kiosk. A few minutes later he walked back to Sephora with their smoothies and a waffle for Claudia. He spotted her nodding along, bored, at what some guy was telling her. Calum realized exactly why that girl walked over to Claudia earlier. It was clear that the guy was flirting with her, and she was not interested. He also saw how her shoulders tensed as he took a step forward, and she took one back.
Calum walked over to them. “Here’s your smoothie.” He told her, handing her her drink. The guy watched Claudia take the offered drink, and he slinked off.
“Thank god you’re here. He was getting on my nerves.” Claudia said before taking a generous sip of her smoothie. She hummed and smacked her lips at how good it was, a habit she picked up from him.
She led him to the Fenty Beauty aisle to get herself a new foundation. She was supposed to only get some hair treatment for Calum’s hair because the blond ends were starting to split, and the avocado and egg mask she used on herself wasn’t helping him.
At first Claudia suggested that he should buzzcut it, but, much to her dismay, he rejected her idea, saying that he wanted to bring back the curls. Luckily her sister in law went platinum blonde sometime before and recommended this deep conditioner that worked wonders on her.
Claudia unlocked her phone and checked the picture she took of her old bottle to make sure she was getting the correct shade. She also grabbed an eyeliner and some bronzer. When she checked the eyeshadow shades, Calum rested his chin on her shoulder. He snuck a few kisses on her neck, earning a few incoherent sounds from Claudia.
Casually, Claudia pulled his arm and swatched some of the eyeshadow from the neutral palette on it. She made a face and reached for the redder palette and tested those colors on him. She liked how they shimmered against Calum’s skin, so she placed a palette on her basket.
“It says that if you get two they’ll cost you $45.” Calum pointed out with his drink. He grabbed a purple-shade palette for her and placed it on her basket. “I’m saving you money here.”
“I don’t take money advice from someone who thought that a roll of fabric only cost $5.”
“How the fuck was I supposed to know they sell it by the yard?”
“That’s how they sell in Lincraft. When I went with your mom, she bought like three meters of fabric.”
“No shit, they sell in meters, not yards.”
“It’s the same concept!”
While they waited in line ‘Wildflower’ sounded through the store. Both of them looked at each other in disbelief. Calum pulled her to his chest and swayed her to the music, ‘cause he wanted to hold her.
“You’re the only one that makes me...” Calum began.
“Laugh.” Claudia cut him off, filling in the pause.
“Every time we...”
“Talk.”
Claudia got too into the song that she didn’t realize what her hips did to Calum. He was quick to point out that she wasn’t wearing anything under his ‘Drop Dead’ t-shirt she was wearing. She had somehow tucked it into itself, making it look like a crop top. Once the song ended Calum took the basket and placed it in front of himself, waiting for their turn.
Their last stop at the outdoor mall after Sefora was lunch. They wandered into a taphouse and restaurant where a hostess led them to a table in the back patio.
Claudia was slightly nervous. She looked around to make sure no paparazzi were present to jump out of the bushes and ambush them with pictures. Once she was sure they were safe, she read over the menu, instantly picking the chicken sandwich and spicy margarita. A waitress came by and took their orders.
"I'll be right back, gotta take a piss." Calum said. He got up and walked over to the waitress asking for the restroom.
Claudia pulled out her phone and decided to check Twitter in the meantime. She was speechless to say the least when she saw something new on Cal’s IG page. She couldn’t wrap it around her head why Calum would do something like this. The one time she decided to lurk through his tagged posts, she stumbled on this. It was a boomerang where he’s casually curling weights.
She should be used to him working out, but in all honesty, she can barely handle him in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Now she’s seeing him shirtless with his shorts stuck to his legs.
"What are you looking at?” Calum asked her.
"You said you were working out with your trainer the other day." Claudia accused him.
"I did. When you left for your meeting, he came over. He made me swim a few laps and then we did some weight training." He shrugged. He took a sip of his beer and crossed his ungodly arms on his chest.
Claudia showed him her screen playing the boomerang. "This is not working out. This is thirst trapping."
***
Calum adjusted Claudia's leg around his waist as he fucked into her. They didn't even make it through lunch before they asked the waitress to put their food in take out containers. Once home, their clothes landed on the floor, and Calum was on his knees in front of Claudia. Which brought them to now with Calum on top of her as he made her chant his name for the third time in the last hour.
Her moans filled his ears, egging him on. He was close. His thrusts became messy and quick. He felt one of her hands release his arm. Slowly it wandered down to where they were connected to each other, and she slowly rubbed herself.
"Cal, please come with me." She said softly.
It was all he needed. He slowed down, making his thrusts more precise. He leaned down and kissed her. She pulled her hand away from herself and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
With a final thrust, Calum got them both off. He kept thrusting into her. He loved how she felt around him as they came together. Without pulling out of her, he maneuvered them so all his weight wasn't on Claudia.
"If my trainer posting videos of me leads to this, then I'm going to work out all the time." he said, earning an eye roll from her.
To bring them back from cloud 9 haze, Calum blew raspberries on Claudia's stomach. He kissed up her stomach to her neck until he reached her lips. The kiss was soft and carefree. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding her up. He pulled away and exaggeratedly wiggled his tongue as he kissed her, making Claudia giggle. She wrapped her fingers around his hair and sighed.
“We gotta fix this Maruchan head of yours.” Claudia mumbled twirling his hair.
He pulled out of her, making her sigh, and slipped on his shorts. He went to the kitchen and grabbed his army green Hydro Flask from the fridge. He sat on one of the stools and mindlessly scrolled through Twitter, reading all of the fans' reactions to him working out.
Seconds later Claudia came in with the conditioner and shampoo. She leaned against him, reading the instructions of the conditioner. He rested his chin on her shoulder and read the bottle with her. She motioned him to the sink.
Calum leaned back on the sink, and Claudia washed his hair. Her fingers untangled his messy curls as she massaged shampoo in them. She reached over and grabbed the sprayer hose to rinse his head. She turned around to get the conditioner. She poured some on her hand before Calum stopped her.
“Woah, woah, wait a minute,” he began. “What is this for?”
She looked at him confused, as if he didn't just read the bottle with her. “It helps your hair get all soft and less, like, stiff. Mede used it when she went blonde after having Sebas.” She looked over the bottle. “Mira, it has keratin, your hair is going to look super shiny and actually healthy.”
She didn’t wait for his response before she generously lathered the conditioner on all the dry and blonde parts. Duke wandered in the kitchen, but turned back when he saw Calum getting washed.
“Now we wait half an hour for it to work its magic on your hair.” Claudia said. She washed all the product off her hands. She eyed him and smirked. "I got an idea on what we could do for the next half hour."
***
Just as Claudia slipped him in her mouth, he suggested they get a pizza. Calum made his way to the front door for their dinner.He was so focused on the pizza order, he didn't notice Claudia left him to get some sun.
He tipped the delivery driver and made his way to the back yard. He caught his reflection in the mirror. His hair really looked shiny and healthy. He pushed it back and fluffed it up. Calum couldn't keep his hands off his hair. In all his years, his hair never felt this soft.
He set the pizza on the kitchen counter and went outside. He sat on a lounge chair surrounding a metal table. He looked over to the pool and saw a bikini clad Claudia napping on a floatie while Duke rested his head on her ass. He grabbed his phone and quickly snapped a few pictures of them. Without much thought he posted one where her face was hidden. He captioned it, 'Poolside Views' and locked his phone. He'll check the chaos he provoked later.
He grabbed a pool rod and leaned over, pushing the pool floatie to the edge. Duke woke up and yipped at him causing Claudia to wake up.
"It wasn't even ten minutes." She sighed.
"Good because you start school on Monday, and your sleep schedule needs to get fixed." Calum said.
She flipped him off. She reached for Duke and safely placed him on concrete. She grabbed the edge of the pool and awkwardly pulled herself up.
Calum was ready with a towel and one of his flannels for Claudia to slip on. He sensed that it was going to be a chilly night, so grabbed a few pieces of wood and went inside to start a fire in the living room's chimney.
Claudia emerged minutes later dressed in a lace teddy under his flannel. She placed the pizza on the coffee table in front of them and arranged the pillows so they could lean against the couch. She mindlessly scrolled through their watch list on Peacock. She smiled to herself as she queued up '3rd Rock from the Sun' knowing how much it annoyed Calum because Claudia would be heart eyes for Joseph Gordon-Levvit the whole time.
Once they finished their pizza, they cleaned up and found themselves back in the living room. They continued watching where they left off. At some point they ended up cuddling on the couch with Calum on top. Claudia was twirling around Calum's now soft curls in between her fingers when she felt him sigh in contentment. He nuzzled his head closer to her chest.
"Thank you." Calum told her quietly.
"For what?" She asked him, surprised at the comment.
"Making my hair nice and soft. I like how your fingers felt when you washed it. Made me feel special."
Claudia smiled to herself. Sometimes she just couldn't believe how sweet Calum could be.
"Maybe we can make it a day?" She suggested. She pushed back his hair. "Like selfcare Saturday, where we spend the day relaxing. We could sleep in then get some breakfast. The rest of the day we spend it with some hair care, skin care and all that jazz."
Calum lifted his head and smiled at her. "I'd like that."
"Yeah?" She asked him. He simply nodded and went back to watching their show. Three episodes later, Calum fell asleep on her.
Claudia reached for her phone and scrolled through Instagram. She dropped her phone in shock. The phone fell on Cal’s back, starting him awake briefly before he closed his eyes again. Claudia sighed; of course that would be the first picture of her that he posts. She scrolled through the comments, relieved some weren't as bad as she assumed. Until she saw her dad's.
'Pinche Calum.'
Taglist: @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @spicycal @sexgodashton @sunshinebabycal @another-lonely-heart
#calum hood imagine#calum hood blurb#calum hood smut#calum hood#calum hood fan fic#calum hood fanfic#El Novio series#el novio
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A Lovely Night: Chapter 2
AO3 Link
Masterpost
Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6
Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality
Word count: ~2k
Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.
General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating,(will be added to as I write more)
Chapter CW: kissing, swearing, subtle s-xual innuendo, (let me know if i missed anything please!)
Author notes: this is the starring role chapter! If that makes sense... after this I'm kind of making up the plot stream-of-consciousness style. I'm pretty excited to get CH 5 out.
...
Virgil knew this whole thing was a mistake.
Roman had practically begged him to break out his skirt, fishnet, and heels. He'd only just bought them, and Roman was entirely too enticed by the idea of his boyfriend wearing them. He was very nervous - he'd never worn heels before, and never a skirt out in public - but he just couldn't bring himself to say no to his love.
And so, here he stood, leaning on the railing over a valley as the sun began reaching to kiss the horizon. He'd worn his favorite ripped crop top and leather jacket, fishnets reaching across his exposed navel, down beneath his plaid purple skirt and all the way into the black high heels he wore. He'd done his makeup a little nicer than usual, winging his eyeliner and getting a bit of purple sparkles in with his eyeshadow. his hair curled and twined haphazardly over his forehead and eyes as he watched lights of houses in the valley flicker on.
This was meant to be a special date, just Janus, Roman and Virgil. Roman had planned it, and kept the events a complete secret to both his boyfriends, simply telling them when and where to meet him. Virgil checked his phone; it was two minutes to seven, the agreed upon time. Virgil tended to arrive early to most things, since he was usually anxious that he'd be late even when getting a 30 minute head start. He passed his phone between his hands, the screen flickering on when his thumb accidentally tapped it, and a picture of Roman kissing a smirking Janus on the cheek greeted him. He felt his cheeks heat up, and slid his phone back into his pocket.
A clicking noise sounded from a little ways away, and Virgil turned to seek its source.
Janus was walking up, the heels of his black and white dress shoes clicking on the pavement. He wore a black wool suit with golden accents, a red dress shirt with subtle frills and a black bowtie. On his head rested his favorite bowler hat, concealing the majority of his golden curls - some of which escaped anyway, tucked neatly against his forehead and over his ears. He smirked and bowed as he approached Virgil, dipping his head and holding one golden gloved hand fisted tight against the small of his own back. Virgil scoffed and shoved his shoulder, and Janus stumbled a bit, snickering back.
Janus joined Virgil at the railing, looking out at the valley and the setting sun. They stood in a comfortable silence for a while, Virgil needing to consistently will himself not to rest his head on Janus' shoulder that was painfully close but felt so far.
After long enough, Janus cleared his throat. "Where might our dear prince be?" He ran his fingers down the underside of one of his lapels, not yet tearing his gaze from the pink clouds surrounding the sunset. Virgil opted to check his phone.
"Uh..." He couldn't form the words, so he simply presented his phone to Janus. A single text had come through.
Romano<3
Hey babe, I'm running kinda late. Why don't you and Jannie entertain each other until I get there? Sorry. Love you <3<3<3
Janus hummed, eyebrows raised. "Well it appears we're stuck with each other for the time being." He smirked slightly, and Virgil scoffed, bumping shoulders with him.
"What a waste," Virgil mused under his breath after a few more minutes of them staring out at the sunset together.
"Ah..." Janus glanced at Virgil briefly. "Such a shame. What a lovely view. It's practically hand drawn for a couple." He sighed, a little too dramatically, and Virgil furrowed his brow at him. "If only Roman were here. Unfortunately, you're not really my type, darling."
"Really." Virgil spat, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest protectively.
"Alas it's only you and I," Janus continued, leaning slightly closer to Virgil, "and frankly, we've got no chemistry whatsoever."
"Ah, okay snakey." Virgil bit back, not daring to look at the smirk he was sure was playing on Janus' face. "I think I can make that call, huh? Just because you look all pretty in that polyester suit doesn't-"
"It's wool," Janus interjected in annoyance. Although after a moment he gasped slightly, turning to Virgil fully. "Wait a moment! Did you just call me pretty, Charlie Frown?" He leaned a little too close, and Virgil scrunched his nose, leaning away slightly.
"Stealing Ro's nicknames for me doesn't make you creative," Virgil deflected, smirking right back at Janus.
"Mmm, perhaps not," Janus leaned away, seemingly examining his fingernails through his gloves.
"And for the record, I'm also feeling no chemistry."
"Is that so?" Janus' attention was back on Virgil, and their eyes locked in an intense and silent battle. Virgil wouldn't back down, just as he never had before, but this time he wasn't sure what he was trying to prove. He straightened his posture, making his chest puff out slightly. Even if Janus was taller than him, he wouldn't shy away from a confidence contest. No, not even if his crush was literally looming over him, not even if he could swear he just saw Janus' eyes flick to his lips for an imperceptible millisecond.
"Yeah. It is." He leaned his head forward, almost bumping his forehead on Janus'. Had he ever seen Janus' face so red?
"So you agree, then," Janus spoke, voice ever so slightly unsteady, but he didn't dare back down. Even if he was nose to nose with a boy he was in love with.
"Yeah, I guess I do." Virgil scrunched his nose again. This time, when Janus' eyes flicked to his lips, it wasn't deniable. He watched it happen, clear as day.
And so, he took a chance.
He took one step forward, not moving his head at all but nearly pushing his body against Janus'. Janus responded in kind, taking a step forward as well, and they were chest to chest. Virgil reached up and gripped Janus' lapels. They were impressively soft, and Virgil realized Janus hadn't just been bragging; it was in fact a wool suit. Janus' hands came to Virgil's hips. Virgil pressed their foreheads together, and didn't dare look away from Janus' eyes. They both breathed on each other, caught up in the heat of the moment without even needing to move with each other.
They'd both been waiting for this for so long.
Slowly, Janus' arms wrapped around Virgil's waist, and Virgil tilted his jaw up slightly. Janus met him halfway, immediately initiating a passionate, openmouthed kiss. Virgil's arms wrapped around Janus' neck, and Janus held him as close against himself as he physically could.
Virgil's mind was exploding, and so was Janus'. Neither of them could believe that this was really real. But they were both too afraid to break the kiss to make sure that it was, so they just kept kissing.
Hands wandered as they did, and Virgil had his arms wrapped beneath Janus' and around his back, both of them pulling each other against themselves as snugly as they could. Neither could get enough of this feeling they'd been chasing for so many years, and the fact that it had all culminated into this moment felt intoxicating in a way neither could describe.
Eventually things slowed down, and they went from lovingly tongue battling to trading gentle slow pecks, both of them smiling stupidly as they rested their foreheads together once more.
Janus opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. "I genuinely thought you two weren't going to stop kissing for a minute there. Jeez."
Janus gasped and Virgil yelped, both of them jumping about a foot in the air and a foot away from each other. Roman, who was sitting on the bench next to them, broke out in laughter.
"Ro you can't sneak up on us like that, man!" Virgil wheezed out though labored breaths, as he tried to calm himself. Janus just stood straight as a pencil with his hands pressed into his face.
After long enough, Roman caught his breath, but he was still smiling so big at his boyfriends. They both looked between Roman and each other, trying desperately to probe the situation without moving a muscle.
Roman brought his hands to his face, fingers curled into happy fists. "Do you know how happy it makes me that you two finally realized?" Roman practically squealed, and if it were even possible, Virgil's face went even redder. Janus collected himself, and cleared his throat.
"Well hello, Roman." He opened his mouth to say more, but the words wouldn't come. He kept glancing to Virgil, who had taken to staring at the floor.
Roman looked between the two of them for a moment. "Oh you big buffoons. Talking always has been hard for the two of you, huh? Come here, my loves." He patted the bench on either side of him, and his boyfriends came at his call, settling in with their thighs against Roman's. "Now hmm, how should we start... I suppose you can fill me in on what I missed?" he looked between them. "Surely you didn't simply see each other in your lovely-" Roman made a point to look Virgil up and down slowly, "-outfits," And Janus as well, "And just decide to attach at the lips immediately? That sounds like something I'd do, more so than either of you." Janus chuckled, and kissed Roman's cheek.
"Well, snakey here decided to make a deal about how pretty the sunset was. And how it was so romantic and all that. And how it was a waste that-" Virgil's snarky explanation was cut off.
"Excuse me, I started it? No no no Virgie," Janus smirked as Virgil's eyes widened at the nickname, "You were the first to make a sly comment about the waste of a romantic view."
"You tell Ro then, if you think you know so much better." Virgil crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his tongue out at Janus, who hummed a laugh.
"Alright. Well," His smirk was lost then, and he took to adjusting his gloves. "I then made a comment about the lack of chemistry between us, and... And I think Virgie said something about me being pretty," His smirk was no longer lost, and Virgil rolled his eyes to try and distract himself from his heart racing in his chest. "And... I'm not sure. We got... lost in the moment." Janus smiled then. A genuine smile. It was such a rare sight (as Roman and Virgil often commented to each other) that Roman nudged Virgil's shoulder so he'd look up to see it too. They both gaped at Janus happily for a few moments, before Janus cleared his throat. "So I suppose then that in the end, I was correct that you find me pretty, Virgil?"
Virgil choked on air for a moment. "Sure, yeah, whatever," He spoke under his breath, "but you were also wrong about the chemistry thing. So suck it." Virgil gave him a challenging grin.
"Ayo!" Roman snickered at the innuendo, and Virgil and Janus both rolled their eyes at him.
"But darling," Janus ignored Roman for a moment, and Virgil swore his chest would explode if Janus kept using pet names for him, "You so strongly agreed that there was no chemistry to be found between us, and yet." He held his hands out, gesturing to their circumstances and smirking yet again.
"Oh shut up pretty boy," Virgil growled in annoyance, reaching across Roman's lap and pulling Janus by the cheeks into another kiss.
#sanders sides#sanders sides fanfiction#virgil sanders#ts virgil#ts roman#ts janus#janus sanders#roman sanders#anxceit#anaroceit#roceit#prinxiety#a lovely night#romantic no?
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Swerve X Reader – Changes - Chapter 7
Chapter 7 – A Rescue Without a Plan
A/N – Finally back to this baby, and boy am I glad to be back.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
“Making your way in the world today, takes everything you've got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.” You sang the Cheers song quietly in your cell, concentrating heavily on the cell bars.
Ever since you had forced yourself to calm down, streams of information had come flooding across your optics, revealing structural strengths and weaknesses to everything you looked at. You hoped to find something about the electrified bars that might lead to your escape, but so far, all the weaknesses were ones you couldn’t exploit from within the cell. You had long since given up on desperately trying to contact the Lost Light, figuring that something was blocking your comms.
You sighed, giving up on your song, a childish idea coming to mind. You knew nothing would come of it, but a smile reached your lips as you stared at your hand, “Go-Go-Gadget, Lock Pick.”
Naturally, nothing happened, but at least you were entertained, so you continued the game, taking comfort in the familiar words. “Go-Go-Gadget, Gun. Go-Go-Gadget, Scanner. Go-Go-Gadget, Blow Torch-” You jumped back in shock as one of your fingertips split open at the command, a strong blue flame roaring up from the split. You didn’t know whether you should be praising Brainstorm, for this was most certainly his addition, or cursing him for the cartoonish way you had accessed the tool. You were almost afraid to wonder how many of your body’s other commands were linked to the phrase Go-Go-Gadget.
Without wasting any more time, you put the flame to the bars, beginning the laborious process of escaping your cell.
As you worked, you had one more idea which you hastily tried, “Go-Go-Gadget, Manual.”
Before your optics, a string of writing cropped up, instructions on how your Cybertronian body worked. “Play audio,” You said, having been introduced to the opening menu. Perceptor’s voice filled your audials, starting your tutorial on your new body. You vented air through your systems and got to work, studying during your attempted escape.
Once he had been released from his cell, Swerve spent all of his time at the Lost Light’s shooting range, his aim never improving despite his efforts. He knew he had little hope of becoming a soldier in the time it would take to get to you, but he didn’t care, so long as he had something to keep him occupied. How could other humans be so cruel as to throw you of all people in a battle arena? You were kind and compassionate, and you would never have even considered harming another species, claiming that all were equal.
Swerve had often found you crying over books wherein humans had treated others terribly, mostly among their own species. He remembered asking you why you chose to read such books as The Diary of Anne Frank or Boy Erased, if they only served to make you upset, and you had replied that they were important to read lest history be repeated from ignorance. It was awful to think that you, the most empathetic of souls, were going to be scrapped for the entertainment of others.
Swerve knew they didn’t have long to rescue you. If the Arena’s advertisements were to be believed, you would be entering one of their battles in less than three cycles, when the new contestants would arrive to scrap you.
Swerve couldn’t forget the picture they had uploaded of you on the advertisement. You had been harmed in ways he never wanted to see, deep gashes in your arms and visible dents everywhere, yet in the picture, you were defiantly angry. He alone could recognise the fear beneath, but he couldn’t be prouder to see that you weren’t giving your captor the satisfaction of your apprehension.
He reloaded his gun, aiming it at the target, imagining it was your captors. Despite his anger, he missed, hitting a spot on the wall at least six feet from the target. Coolant sprung to his optics. You were in danger and he was completely useless. He couldn’t pilot the ship, he couldn’t shoot, it wasn’t even him that had discovered your location; that had been Nightbeat while he was too busy feeling sorry for himself. He was useless.
Rodimus’ voice rang clear through Swerve’s comms. It was a channel he had left open until you were found; that way anyone who needed him could contact him.
“Swerve, get to the board room. We have news on (Y/N).”
Swerve brusquely wiped the coolant from his optics, throwing the gun on the table before leaving. As soon as he was in the hallway, he transformed, speeding to the board room, eager for any information he could get, yet also terrified about what it could mean for you.
He didn’t say anything as he entered, his attention, like everyone else’s drawn to the video-feed of the Arena, where a human woman in acid-green armour was speaking.
“Greetings to fans, peasants, and nobles alike. It is I, Lady Ouida, your adored host of the Arena.”
Lady Ouida. Swerve glared at her holographic form, now having a name and a face to put to his enemy.
“As all of us betting royals know, there is to be a new competitor here. The foul-mouthed mini menace has refused to state her name, but we don’t care about that. We only care about one thing and one thing only. Which of our noble competitors will be the one to take her out?”
Banners depicting different armoured competitors unfurled around Lady Ouida; the scumbags that would try to take your life.
“In this message to all of you, my lovely subjects, I would like to make a special announcement. Although we had planned to set the battle for three cycles time, we have hit a little snag.”
Warmth flared in Swerve’s spark, as he hoped that the battle would be delayed even further, giving the Lost Light more time for your rescue.
Lady Ouida snapped her fingers, motioning for someone off-screen to do her bidding. The hope that Swerve had dared to feel was quickly extinguished as several trucks with chain attachments drove forward, dragging you behind them, the chains affixed to your arms.
“Our little menace here was caught roaming the halls of our fair kingdom, trying to escape her fate. She may not look like much, but she has proved to be very resourceful indeed, which I am sure you’ll keep in mind when betting.”
It looked like you desperately wanted to retort, but a modified gag stopped you from doing so. It didn’t stop you from attempting to kick at several of your captors, your pede falling short of its mark.
“NO!” Swerve cried out as you were electrocuted, making you fall to the floor. The others in the room spared him looks of pity before their attention returned to Lady Ouida.
“Spirited, is she not?” The Lady continued, spurred on by your attempted attack. “Alas, that brings me to my next point. We cannot keep her subdued for long and as such, we will have to cut betting short. You will have till the end of the cycle, for at dawn THE BATTLE BEGINS.”
The feed ended with a screen of competitors and their odds against you.
Rodimus wasted no time in addressing the room, all traces of his usual playfulness gone. “ETA to the Arena?” He asked no one in particular.
“Two cycles at most,” One of the Co-pilots answered.
“Not good enough. If you have to burn out the engines, you’ll get us there tonight. Strategy?”
Megatron brought up a hologram for the planet, pointing out the building on the map, a modernised castle with plasma-turrets as its main defences. “If it were me, I’d have the turrets hacked. The fastest route to the Arena itself is by the West wall. The ship is far too big to hide, so our best option is an outright assault. We could blast through the walls with an Alpha team. Meanwhile, a smaller Beta Team could attack the Northern ramparts, where we believe the prison cells to be located, in case (Y/N) is still being held there.”
“Who’s our hacker for this?”
“We have an accomplished team that will be led by Skids.”
“What will we need to get through the castle’s walls?”
“Ultra Magnus assures me that he has a supply of confiscated weapons from Whirl and Brainstorm.”
Rodimus nodded in acknowledgement, “You know Megatron, it’s rare, but on occasions such as this, I’m glad that you’re a crazed war-lord with a lot of strategic experience.”
Megatron looked uncomfortable at the compliment but didn’t comment.
Swerve raised his hand in what he assumed was a military fashion, “I’d like to be in the Alpha team.”
Rodimus took in some air with an awkward hiss, “Yeahhh, about that. Don’t you think you’d be better off, uh waiting to comfort (Y/N) in the med-bay or something? You’re um- You’re not exactly a good shot.”
Swerve bristled at the veiled insult. “THAT IS MY CONJUNX ENDURAE. I’LL BE GOING DOWN THERE EVEN IF I HAVE TO STEAL A POD-SHIP!”
“Okay, yep, cool. You’re there to rescue (Y/N), got it. Just… Maybe stay behind the rest of us, okay? Wait no. You go in front, I don’t want to be shot in the back or anything-” Rodimus stopped talking when he noticed more than one bot glaring at him for his lack of tact. “I mean, uh- You just go where you think is best, buddy. You got this.”
“Let’s just continue going over the plan,” Megatron interrupted, turning his attention back to the planetary holograph.
Thankfully, nobody questioned Swerve further, and he was free to remain undisturbed as the meeting went on.
Once again, you were behind bars but this time you were outside of the prison block. You were now in the centre of the Arena, which greatly resembled the Ancient Colosseums of Earth. You cradled your servo close to your body, the pain immense where your captors had crushed it after they had caught you trying to use the blow torch a second time; if there was any hope of returning to Swerve, it wouldn’t be the same way you escaped before.
With nothing else to do, you resumed listening to the recorded manual. Theoretically, you knew how to scan a vehicle and transform, so long as you found something to scan. Maybe you could convince Ouida to show you a vehicle in order to make the games more interesting. You doubted that plan would work, but if Ouida thought you were going to die in her games anyway, she might grant the request.
“In the event that you are in danger and need to record a message into your processor for an ally to discover-”
You focused on Perceptor’s instructions. Now seemed like the perfect time to record a message for Swerve, should he ever find your body. You tried to focus as your processor informed you that your voice and surroundings were being recorded.
“Swerve, I wish I could see you right now to tell you everything that’s on my mind, but if you’re watching this… Well, we know what’s happened.” You tried to keep your tone happy, but it proved to be impossible when thinking of the last time you had seen Swerve and how badly that had gone. You couldn’t stop from crying as you continued.
“Swerve, you are my whole world. I love you so much and I’m so sorry about how I acted. I was scared and confused, and… That’s no reason for the way I was. I’m terrified of what might happen to you if I die. Please, don’t think sadly on this. You have so much time left in the universe, and it’s a brighter place with you in it. No matter what happens, I need you to remember, I’m sticking with you. Never forget that you have my heart, always. I’m sorry that this is goodbye. I love you.”
Ending the feed, you hugged your knees to your chassis with your good hand, while you sat in silence and wept.
Swerve gripped the base of his chair, in the cruiser that the Alpha team had taken, hard enough to dent it. Upon reaching a close enough proximity to the planet’s surface, he had received a few dozen delayed private comms from you, the last of which was time-stamped only one hour prior. You were being kept in a cage, telling him how sorry you were and how much you loved him. If you were sticking with him, then he was going to stick right back to you.
Turbulence hit the ship, but Swerve’s determination didn’t waver. He knew it was just the first volley of attacks from the turrets, until Skids’ team would be able to disable them. Swerve remembered feeling like this thousands of times in the war. The feeling that you could be shot down at any moment on the way to your goal, but that you couldn’t think about death, lest it leech into your processor, freezing out all other thoughts. Swerve wouldn’t die. He couldn’t. Not while you were in danger. You were his mission and this was just another, smaller, war.
Swerve remembered his very first mission. His entire squadron had died, except for him. Being a mini-bot, he’d managed to hide without being discovered; he’d spent centuries hating himself for living as a coward instead of dying a hero with the rest of his squad. As it turned out, many bots had had similar experiences which haunted them. This time, he would not hide, his team would survive, they would rescue you, and Swerve would tell you every minute of every day that he loved you.
“SKIDS,” Rodimus yelled over the comms, “A LITTLE HELP WITH THE FRAGGING TURRETS.”
“Working on it,” Skids replied frantically. “They have one hell of an IT team there, Rodimus. The turrets are encrypted at least five times over.”
“Great. I’ll pass on the compliment when I meet them. Can you stop the turrets or not?”
There was a sharp silence on Skids end which was answer enough; the team would have to go in under fire.
“Okay,” Rodimus looked to his team. Ultra Magnus, Tailgate, Cyclonus, and Swerve were there, along with a few other volunteers that made their number twenty. “Plan B. We drive fast and furious, ploughing through their defences.”
The team were less enthusiastic at the thought of being shot, but none of them buckled under pressure; everyone was ready to go to your aid.
“Beta team, in position?” Rodimus asked, as they had planned to do before the Alpha Team dropped down onto the planet’s surface.
“Negative,” Megatron replied. His team comprised of Drift, Nautica, Nightbeat, and Brainstorm. It was decided that a smaller team would be better for infiltration. “The blueprints were wrong. We landed right in their armoury and are facing heavy fire.”
“HEY, NO, NOT COOL. WE WERE FACING HEAVY FIRE FIRST.” Rodimus pouted. “THAT’S OUR THING. GET YOUR OWN THING.”
“Don’t be a sparkling,” Megatron hissed. “Rendezvous here. We need backup.”
Swerve crushed another part of his chair. Meeting up with the beta team would lead them further away from you. They should face the turrets, consequences be damned. Swerve imagined reaching over to the control panel and forcing the team to drop. If he wasn’t afraid to have their energon on his servos, he’d do it. However, frustrating as it was, he left the planning up to the Co-Captains, itching for the moment that he would finally be useful. So far, everything in the plan was falling apart.
“Get ready to fight, crew,” Rodimus warned as the cruiser approached the Beta Teams location. Everyone stood up, heading to the back of the ship, “Dropping in three, two, one.”
The doors opened, leaving all the transformed vehicles to drive out on the ramp, jumping the gap onto the planet. There, the battle began. A handful of Cybertronians against a few hundred organics, none of whom seemed to be human; perhaps Lady Ouida was the only human among the organics that inhabited the planet.
Swerve raged with every shot he took. In hallways full to the brim of enemies, even he couldn’t miss. His blaster kept ringing off with compliments. Good job. Nice shootin’ Tex. You’re my hero.
However, as many shots as he got in, the enemies didn’t drop. It seemed that they were immune to most of the weapons, only stumbling slightly before they got back up to fight.
“This isn’t working,” Cyclonus growled through gritted teeth, him and Drift being the only ones to do any real damage with their swords, though they kept getting pushed back by the horde.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Rodimus said sardonically. “Time for plan C.”
“We don’t have a plan C,” Ultra Magnus reported.
“Then improvise.”
From the corner of his optic, Swerve saw a flash of green and he spun around to see Lady Ouida herself. She was climbing over the rubble, apparently trying to reach the fast-firing ballista behind the invaders of her castle. Full of rage at the human who had dared to harm his Conjunx Endurae, Swerve rushed at her, screaming. He tackled her to the ground, grunting as she stabbed a plasma dagger into his side. He would worry about the pain later, when you were safe. For now, he didn’t care, as that was the only weapon she had and she couldn’t retrieve it from his side now that he had her arms firmly in his grasp.
Swerve had always prided himself on being gentle with you, his beloved human. However, with Ouida in his grip, he was all too aware of how easy it would be to crush every bone in her body with only the slightest bit of pressure.
“WHERE IS MY CONJUNX?” He spat at her.
“Dead.” Lady Ouida lied. “As you will be soon enough, robotic scum.”
Swerve didn’t bother to press her on her deception, knowing instinctively that she wouldn’t talk, no matter what he did. Instead, he carried her towards her army, making sure the creatures could see her.
“I HAVE YOUR LEADER,” He roared at them. “LET US PASS, OR I’LL CRUSH HER.”
The organics stopped shooting, eerily expressionless as they lowered their weapons. Ouida shot her captors a disgusted look, hating that they had bested her experimental mutants. They were made to follow orders and protect the castle, but they had also been designed to ensure that she wouldn’t be harmed; with her as a captive, they were useless.
Swerve made his way forward, but Rodimus grabbed his shoulder-plate, pulling him back.
“Hey, loving the energy buddy,” Rodimus complimented Swerve. “Great improv and all, but uh, the Arena is the other way.”
“Oh,” Swerve looked at the mutant army, who were watching Ouida like a dog watching its master. “In that case, don’t follow us, or I’ll crush her.”
“YEAH,” Rodimus fist-pumped the air. “LET’S GO RESCUE (Y/N).”
You didn’t know what to say as you were faced with the many faces of the Lost Light that you thought you’d never see again, but most importantly Swerve. For a moment, you were half-convinced that you were hallucinating again, but then he had pushed Lady Ouida into Drift’s arms and he was holding you.
He kissed your helm, pulling you into his chassis, checking over every inch of you for injuries. “(Y/N),” he murmured. “My (Y/N).”
“Swerve,” You cried his name. “Swerve. I was so scared I’d never see you-”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here now. I love you. Always,” He repeated your message to you, letting you alone know that he had received it.
“Not to interrupt this reunion,” Megatron said sombrely, “But enemy reinforcements could arrive at any moment, and we need to get you two to medical treatment immediately.”
For the first time, you noticed the gash in Swerve’s side, coated with freshly congealed energon; he had taken the dagger out prior to seeing you.
“She hurt you… She-”
It was your turn to scream at Ouida, “YOU HURT MY CONJUNX ENDURAE.”
You reached out to crush her with your good arm, but Drift dragged Ouida into safety, “Sorry (Y/N), but she’s our ticket out of here. If we kill her, we have no leverage.”
You glared at Ouida, “You’re lucky he values all life, you hateful witch.”
Ouida rolled her eyes, unperturbed by the raving antics of a non-organic.
“Come on, (Y/N),” Swerve ushered you ahead of the group. “It’s time for us to go home.”
Home. You thought of your hab-suite aboard the Lost Light where you had built your life with Swerve; you couldn’t wait to get back to it. Letting Swerve cradle you in his arms, you leaned on him and took your first steps back towards home.
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#swerve#swerve x reader#ll#lost light#The Lost Light#mtmte#more than meets the eye#maccadam#transformers#idw#tf#reader#reader insert#fanfiction#fanfic#chapter 7#drift#rodimus#megatron#ultra magnus#skids#a rescue without a plan
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