#I had this written then I opened tumblr and my computer crashed and I had to rewrite the last half of it and I'm so mad
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And I’m split in half (But that’ll have to do)
In the end, she’d seen it coming.
In the end, he’d felt it like a train that couldn’t stop in time.
In the end, there were ghosts of people who were lost and ghosts of people they never got to be, people who had never existed and maybe never had a chance.
In the end, they say goodbye to what was, what could have been, and what died without them ever knowing.
They’d both been pretending for too long, both been fighting for something they couldn’t really believe in. She’d fought to push down the nightmares choking her, he’d fought to regain the normalcy they never got to taste before. He’d fought so hard to keep things good, clinging to the idea of them and clinging to the her that existed before her best friend was killed. She tried to push and pull and shape herself into the mold that he looked for. She bent herself into a person she never could have kept playing, but couldn’t get the words out from where they lodged in her throat.
She saw his pain, even with hers clouding her thoughts. She saw it in the way he didn’t swim in the pool, the way he kept it clean but couldn’t stand being in it.
He saw her pain in the way her smiles couldn’t linger on her face.
Dinners were never with his parents, too busy for him and unknowing of the turmoil in his heart. Dinners were never with her parents, something she didn’t want to subject him to. Dinners with parents only happened when they were the parents of the ghost haunting both of them.
In the end, the ghosts get to be too much. They come to a head with too sweet alcohol and too much noise. They come to a head with words that hurt worse than any fist. He leaves her there, but only once he knows someone else will watch out for her. Because he hurts, but he loves, he loves, he loves more than he hates himself even on his worst days.
He’s no stranger to anger, no stranger to loneliness and the ache in his heart. He knows himself to know his anger is a poison and it’s better if he’s alone when he’s trying to get rid of it. He’s trying not to be his father, trying not to be Tommy, trying not to be King Steve, who took that anger out on everyone who got in his way because that was all he’d ever known. He’s tried so hard to be better, but he feels all that anger boiling and pulling at the person he’s been building himself into.
He knows she’s hurting, knows she’s saying things she wouldn’t otherwise let out, but that makes it hurt worse because it means she’s thought about it over and over until it stuck there.
And then she doesn’t remember. She doesn’t remember and she can’t say the three words he needs to hear to fix the hole left in his heart. He can’t blame her, but he can’t not blame her just the same as he can’t blame himself, but he can’t not blame himself. It’s a vicious war in his heart and he feels so empty and hurt and angry that he walks away.
He wants to fix it, thinks if he can just apologize, even if he doesn’t know what he did wrong, they’ll be okay eventually.
He can’t though. Because she’s gone, because she can’t let the ghosts lie and he can’t blame her for that even if it terrifies him.
Except she’s gone, and then when she’s back she’s got a spark in her eyes and she can’t look at him for more than a glance. He’s already an afterthought.
He’s got bigger things to worry about that night, things bigger than him and bigger than her and bigger than the pain that still exists between them and the love that might have been there once.
She moves on, and it seems as easy as breathing for her to smile with Jonathan. She can’t see how much it makes him ache and he can’t bring himself to do anything but smile because he loves her and can’t just stop even if she’s moved on.
She’s been through enough and his anger isn’t enough to make him hurt her.
It’s like the year they spent together is just gone though and he doesn’t know what to do with that. He doesn’t go back to who he used to be, not really, but he smokes and drinks and acts like some kind of authority to the kids who follow him around and he tries to act like his heart isn’t a black hole because falling apart isn’t an option. He tries to keep up a friendship, does his best to act like it’s enough, like he doesn’t dream about her every night, like he doesn’t keep fitting her into the plans he’d always imagined. He smiles as she holds Jonathan’s hand like he isn’t still picturing her there with him in a house with a picket fence and kids running around after them.
It's his dream, not hers, and he can recognize that, but he’s not ready to let it go yet.
He sees her mom in the grocery store and sees the faint recognition in her eyes before he turns away.
He knows she has to drive past his road to get to the Byers’ house but he knows without having to ask that she’s not thinking about him as she does it.
The pain never leaves, but he holds onto it even as he wishes it was gone. He holds onto it every time he sees her. It’s a cycle in his head. Aching longing, love, anger, pain, over and over and over again. He feels stuck, forever, like there’s no escape from it and time isn’t helping.
He graduates, the pain stays as his dad promises to teach him a lesson, as he knows staying means seeing her. He finds someone who makes the pain lighten up, but she can’t remove it completely. He gets dragged back into that world of monsters and pain and still dreams about her even as he reaches for the hand that’s right there with him.
In the end, that hand isn’t the kind of love he’d hoped for, but it’s enough to finally start stitching up the pieces of his heart. In the end, it isn’t really the end after all.
They still can’t talk, but he isn’t quite so lonely anymore.
They still can’t look at each other, but she smiles at him sometimes and it feels like forgiveness.
They still can’t be friends, but they’re bound together forever.
He watches her be left behind by someone she really does love, someone who loves her too even if he can’t stay. But he’s here with her and the anger is still there but it doesn’t feel like it’s choking him anymore. He stays busy and dreams of the things that used to be within his reach and doesn’t drag her back in because it’s not fair to her.
He loves her and wants her to be happy even if it’s not with him because that’s what she deserves.
He stays by her side as they’re dragged back into fear and pain, finds himself telling her that dream that he swore would go to his grave in the gentle sunlight and haunting shadows. He tells her and hates himself for it because it’s his dream, not hers.
He watches her hug Jonathan and turns away because as much as he loves her, wants her to have her dreams, it still hurts knowing it’s not going to include him.
So he walks away, lets her go, let’s her have her dreams because it’s the least he could do. He shoves his aching heart down further in his chest because he loves, he loves, he loved, and she’s got that piece of his heart, but maybe letting her go can be good for them both.
He walks away, a different soft, small hand linked to his by their pinky fingers, and as he breathes out, he lets go of the version of them that never existed, that never had a chance of finding a home in their lives.
That night, for the first time in years, he doesn’t dream of her.
(@sharpbutsoft - I got at least a very rough sort of something that came out! Thanks for the inspiration!)
#steve harrington#nancy wheeler#S2 stancy#kat writes#I had this written then I opened tumblr and my computer crashed and I had to rewrite the last half of it and I'm so mad#Listen I do love steddie but there's something so interesting about stancy and how they fit but they don't#There's something so important about the pain of losing something that never existed the way you built it in your head#and at the end of the day they were both teenagers trying to cope with horrible things and they both made mistakes because they're teenager#I do believe he really loved her and I do believe she tried to love him but couldn't deal with the trauma she'd been dealt#and that's not her fault but it's not his either it's just a shitty situation#anyways I'm a hundred percent a multishipper even if I have the ones I like best and I think if done right stancy could be satisfying#but with that said I don't know that I trust them to be done right
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Media: Dragon Ball Z
Year/my age: 2002/12
What drew me to the media:
I came home from highschool everyday and had a small tv with a built in vhs in my closet. It was 4:30pm and toonami was on Cartoon Network. I watched the entire Cell Saga and Majin Boo like a fiend. It was a shitton of episodes! Ugh. It's almost impossible to watch all the way through now, but maybe because as an adult I want like...more plot motivated writing. One of the best fanfic foder aspects of DBZ is that so much is left open to interpretation. I didn't question the filler episodes as a kid. I just liked all the muscles and screaming. The animation/manga style remains super duper fun. But mostly I found DBZ memorable because of Vegeta. I got truly invested in him as a character, because for most of DBZ, he really lets you down. I think TV shows love to harp on tropes for children, ie the bad man becomes a good man and all his values change to match the good characters *sparkles*, because they think morally those are the stories that should be told to children. Which is sad, honestly. Vegeta doesn't fall into that arc. He remains...kind of a bitch... and his character arch is fantastic and long and hard and he fucks up a lot and he doesn't really apologize for any of it. This was amazing to see as a preteen. Teaching failure to a child is really hard, and I think that America's school system is really bad at even attempting to. But failure is super important. Because all of life that child cum adult is going to fail, and its going to suck.
What made me a fan:
In college, I did another pass of DBZ, and whoa, developing adult horny brain really went into spiral knots wondering...so what the fuck... Bulma and Vegeta... had sex? They made a child. They made Trunks. So they had sex, right? I think this is pretty common a reaction. And as soon as you think that, well... the next step is... 'wait wait wait, how did they have sex? why did they have sex? what did that even look like?' And that's what sends you scouring the internet at 1am in your underwear (covertly, because you're in a dormitory with three other roommates).
I wish I could put to language what is it about romance that sends people into fandom holes. Romance is really important to fandom. I think it has something to do with how regimented relationships are in mass media. They aren't diverse. Most main stream romance is very streamlined and never gets into the messy odd bits without being labeled as some kind of edgy cusp drama. I don't know. But relationships seem to be the spring board for fandom hijinks. I'm all about it. I'd rather have fake blorbo relationships in my brain to obsess over than the real world. That shit gets you into trouble.
Oh god, and what an indicator of future dispositions. If you get into the Vegebul fandom, a lot of them are rape stories (because god forbid, a woman could want a shitty asshole alien man to bone at night. Bulma has her own set of problems, specifically with vanity being high up there). But yeah they were hot and I was pretty ashamed about the whole thing.
I was such a baby then.
Have I written fanfiction for it?
YES. One winter vacation, I wrote a 40 page fanfiction. This was probably in 2010? It was UNFINISHED, but I was incredibly sweaty the entire time, trying to build up to a spanking scene. (Yes, 40 pages of build up for spanking. I'm embarrassed for myself.) My computer crashed and the entire document was corrupted. My first fanfic was lost. RIP
Opinion on the fandom:
Pretty chill. I didn't interact with it much besides reading secretly. Originally, I was reading on fanfiction.net. When I came back to it years later (once again after college, I got my husband into it) I was reading fanfic for it on Ao3. I run into other Vegebul's periodically. They are all in their late twenties, early-late thirties. I follow someone here on tumblr that wrote this fantastic long series (100+ chapters) called Pillow Talk which is on Ao3. It's fucking incredible about showing the ups and downs, ins and outs of their relationship, because they do wind up together in canon (which is wild).
The most recent interaction I had was in the kink community, which was like *sigh* 'god, we are so fucking predictable, aren't we?' We had a good laugh! But he was trans masc too, chilling in a femme body, so we clicked right away about it.
I also remember I had an annoying conversation with my stepbrother once about tattoos. I don't have any, so they were asking why I don't. I said "If I started to get tattoos it would be a slipper slop before I start making bad decisions like getting a full Vegeta arm sleeve." Their mouths twisted in that judging you face and said "yeah don't do that." Like...ahem. My point exactly.
I think people get pretty judgy in general about Vegebuls because its a 90s kid's show, and its not a very good one. But being a Vegebul is kind of like... realizing your parents have sex. It's part of 'coming of age'.
Would I participate again:
Hell yeah, I would. Once a Vegebul always a Vegebul. The biggest hurdle for me would be catching up on all the new material. I watched Dragon Ball Super and found it lackluster. GT was so bad, I cannot. Something that's commonly an issue for me is the amount of subject material required to understand a story in fanfiction. I'll get into it later with other fandoms, but if the lore gets too big, I suddenly don't know how to participate.
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little hacker
avengers x fem!teen!reader
characters: brief clint barton, tony stark, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, peter parker
summary: you hacked into tony's systems and he, along with the team, track you down.
warnings: mentions of death and a car crash, hacking written by someone who has no idea how it works
word count: 3241
note: hi um this is my first oneshot on tumblr i hope you like it!!
you were 14 when you first met the avengers. your family had gotten into a tragic car accident and you were the only one who made it out alive, leaving you in excessive guilt and burden; guilt because you were the only one granted a second chance at life and burden because you had to live your life, barely scraping by as you were dropped the responsibility of taking care of your sick grandmother.
at 11, where all that the kids your age had to worry about was whether their pocket money was enough to get themselves an after-school snack, you worried whether or not the money left to your name was enough to survive.
at 11, where girls worried about their changing bodies and asked their mothers about it, you had to figure it all out yourself and with the help of your trusty laptop, the only gadget you had, one that your dad had gifted to you after you had gotten 100s for all your tests at age 8. he thought you were his little prodigy and figured a laptop would treat you well. you took care of it well because while you didn't want to spend the last of your money left, —that was specifically set aside for your grandmother's hospital bills— you wanted to hold on to the laptop for as long as you could, as a reminder of your loving father, as well as the memories the item held, after you've watched movies with pretty much all of your passed family members on that laptop at different points in your life. that was why whenever the thing lagged due to how much you've been using it, you almost always figure out how to fix it until it was good as new.
at 12, while your classmates had their parents to protect them when they were out at night, you feared for your life whenever you were out past dark. which led you to learning self defence from youtube videos. you learned them pretty quickly and with your sharp-wittedness, you no longer feared to be out at night. you even had the honours of trying out your skills when some men thought they could get you just because you were smaller than them.
at 12, where kids your age were having fun, enjoying their childhood, you had no choice but to be mature and think for the good of yourself and your sick grandmother. you were forced to grow up and you were probably more mature and intelligent than the rest of your classmates combined.
and at 13, you realised that money wasn't going to grow on trees and the money you were left with wasn't going to last forever. it had to last until you were old enough to work. but with your grandmother's condition getting worse and worse, you were forced to drop out of school. you were upset because you loved it. you loved knowledge. but family came first and the only thing that your knowledge increased on was on computers.
which led to you being able to hack into tony stark's bank account at only 14. you had no other choice than to steal money and who better to steal it from than a guy whose pocket change could probably last you another five years or so? you knew who tony stark was, the whole world knows who he is. and you thought that maybe he would be too preoccupied with his alter ego saving the whole world, along with his group of earth's mightiest heroes that he wouldn't notice the tiny bit of money you'd stolen from him.
of course the billionaire had been alerted immediately by his AI when you'd accessed into his systems. "security breach?" he exclaimed, immediately dropping the tool he was tinkering his suit with in his lab.
he spent about 3 minutes, that was how long you took touring around in his systems, observing what you did in it. he watched as you did nothing about the highly confidential information he had and instead, stole....5 grand from his bank account? that was barely a scratch to his account. what was going on?
he had requested FRIDAY to track down the hacker, mainly because he was perplexed that someone had hacked into his well protected system just to steal a tiny bit of money but it seems that even FRIDAY couldn't track down where it came from.
he told the team and it was then that everyone worried how dangerous the hacker could possibly be.
"who steals just 5 grand after hacking into a billionaire's bank account?" clint frowned after tony had explained the whole situation. "i mean, if i managed to hack into your systems, i'd do way more than just steal a couple bucks."
"exactly. and who knows? they might just be waiting for the right moment to install dangerous malware into the system and until we find the culprit, they're roaming somewhere out there with all our confidential information right at the tip of their fingers. if they decide to use it against us..." tony trailed off, for once having a worried expression on his otherwise nonchalant face. he's never been this clueless about what to do with any sort of technical issues concerning the avengers or himself.
you on the other hand, after getting complacent that you weren't caught, kept doing so for the next couple months or so. you had no ill intentions, just trying to scrape by. the whole situation puzzled tony. he didn't care how much you've taken from him in total now, you were right; it was merely pocket change to him. but you were still considered a threat since you had free access to his systems and he didn't even know who you were or where you were.
that was until you made a tiny mistake, one that if tony wasn't spending every waking moment trying to track you down he wouldn't have noticed. and though it was a small mistake, it certainly was going to change how things ran from then on.
that afternoon, after having just gotten back from visiting your grandmother at the hospital, you were planning to get more money from the billionaire's bank account at the comfort of your own home. god, hospital bills were expensive. once you had had a little snack, you settled down on the couch and opened your laptop. but being the quick-witted person you were, before the screen in front of you lit up, you saw movement from behind you.
your heart raced. you could handle fighting people but those usually happened in alleys at nighttime. this was in your home, your safe place. you made sure to lock the doors and there weren't fire escapes outside your windows so how did the intruder get in?
you could tell they were trying to be inconspicuous to get to you and so you let them. you let the person think that they were going to get you without a fight but when they were right behind you, you swiftly turned your body around and jumped over the couch. the masked intruder let out a surprised yelp and the two of you fought for a bit. before you knew it, you had them pinned under you in just ten seconds.
"wha– how– what?" it sounded like a boy. you looked down at him and noticed his red and blue spandex suit. you frowned. wasn't this the friendly neighbourhood spiderman guy or something? why was a superhero breaking into your home?
he was coughing from your knee pressing down onto his chest and you lifted it slightly, enough for him to breathe but not enough to escape. he seemed grateful though because he muttered a seemingly embarrassed 'thanks'.
"get off the kid or i'll blast you off of him myself."
you look up and saw the iron man repulsor aimed right at you, and obviously iron man himself was standing right there in the middle of your small apartment. behind him stood a redhead, who you knew as the black widow, aiming a pistol at you, and a man with a shield, captain america. the spiderboy must've come in through the window and unlocked the door for them.
when you made eye contact with steve, he frowned in confusion. you looked way too young to be the culprit they had expected. he muttered a quiet 'wait, what?' before tony stark revealed himself, his iron man faceplate opening.
"um...kid? where are your parents? or guardian? we need to see them because there's been some highly illegal activity coming from this address." the man in the suit spoke. you stayed still, knee still pressing against the boy under you, frowning at the adults in the room. they noticed your apprehensiveness and slowly lowered their weapons. "we're not here to hurt you, you can release the boy now," steve told you gently.
you usually weren't one to trust easily but since these people were known superheroes, you reluctantly stood up, still anxious of the possibilities of what they could do to you. the spiderboy got up too and dusted his back, before going to stand next to steve. you were confused as to why these heroes were breaking in your home until you remembered what you had been up to for the past weeks. how could you forget when that was the only reason you were still surviving?
your eyes widened with fear when they met tony's soft ones. he looked at you with such care and worry that you were reminded of your late dad. the man in front of you wasn't the arrogant man you've watched on youtube. you felt bad for stealing from him now. you used to think that he deserved it, despite how little you took compared to how much he had. the man knelt down before you so he didn't appear so big in front of you, seeing your frightened expression. little did he know you were frightened for a totally different reason.
"anyone else living here, kid? because i tracked down this address and someone has been stealing money from me. i might need to have a little talk with them." he explained, looking around the house. you fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously, scared of what would come once you came clean about your actions. you were scared you were going to be taken in for juvenile crime but you were also scared of the consequences of lying straight to their faces. so you took a deep breath before deciding to just tell the truth.
"t–that would be me, sir." you admitted in a small voice, avoiding eye contact with the billionaire you had been stealing from. a few shocked looks from the team and an incredulous 'what?' from tony had you biting the inside of your cheeks in fear.
"i'm truly sorry about that, sir. i..." you trailed off, debating whether or not to justify your actions because you thought that he might not even want to listen to it. "i had to pay off my grandmother's hospital bills because she is very sick. my family died a few years ago in a car crash and i was the only one who made it. i was left some money to my name but having to survive on that along with paying off nana's bills, it was bound to run out. i...i thought that since you were a billionaire, stealing a few thousands wouldn't matter to you...i'm so sorry, sir. i– i'll start working to pay you back.." you stuttered out, holding your hands together so it would minimise the shaking.
tony's mouth opened and closed, like fish out of water, not knowing what to say to you. he stood up and you were on the verge of breaking down right then and there, feeling as small as you did before he knelt before you. "p–please don't report me, sir. i– i don't know what would happen to my nana if you do.. i swear to you that i didn't mess with your other files. i only accessed the system for your bank account and that was it. i have no ill intentions, please don't report me.." you were now the one kneeling down in front of him, begging.
the team were flabbergasted at the scene unfolding before them and tony was quick to get you off your knees, which scared you even more because the death grip of his metal hands on your forearms had your mind running wild at the millions of possibilities of what he would do to you. was he going to kill you and leave you somewhere that people were never going to find your body? or was he going to dispose of you and use his power to remove you permanently from the system so no one came looking for you? he had the power to ruin your life and you feared that.
snapping you out of your mental breakdown, he spoke softly. "hey, it's okay." and that was when you realised the 'death grip' he had on your forearms had only been your paranoia getting the best of you. he was barely even touching you. your teary eyes looked up at his soft, brown ones in fear.
then he smiled at you.
"it's okay. i understand the reason why you did what you did. you're a good kid, your nana is so lucky to have you. what's your name?" he knelt down before you once again, knowing that him standing tall in his iron man suit terrified you. "y/n." you responded timidly.
"how old are you, y/n?" this time, it was steve who asked. you had forgotten that there were other people in the room, too consumed by your fear for your life a few moments ago. "i'm fourteen, mr america, sir." you whispered out, the sight of captain america in person intimidating you until you saw a kind smile on his face.
"you're pretty young to be doing what you've been doing, y/n. are you aware that you're the first person to be able to hack into my heavily protected, supposedly impenetrable network? many have tried to do so and failed, and they were really smart people too. have you been doing this for a while?" tony asked.
"um...my father gifted me this laptop when i was 8 because i did exceptionally well in school. he believed i was a child prodigy and let me have a laptop since he knew my studies wouldn't be affected by the distraction of entertainment. i used to only hack into games to cheat my way up the ranks but only recently i tried something else since i had nothing better to do and i've been out of school for a while now. i knew you were a billionaire so i tried just for the heck of it and surprised myself when i got in on the first try. and then i saw your bank account details and i really needed money so i stole some... again, i'm so sorry about that." you apologised, looking down at your feet.
he couldn't believe it. you were just messing around and you managed to get into his system? you, a mere fourteen year old who was out of school, managed to single handedly do what geniuses around the world had failed to do?
he was initially just going to have a talk with the hacker, and in case they were dangerous and had backup, he brought his own. but bringing steve, natasha and peter proved to be unnecessary when the culprit turned out to be you.
"where did you learn those moves?" natasha stepped closer towards you. you looked up at the redhead, noticing the glare she had on you when she aimed her pistols at you was replaced with curiosity.
you fiddled with the hem of your shirt even more, embarrassed to tell her that you learned to fight from a couple of youtube videos when she had gotten years of actual training. you were pathetic compared to her. "i, um, i learned them from some youtube videos."
her eyebrows raised in surprise at the revelation. you hadn't gotten professional training yet you moved like you had. peter had superhuman strength, agility and endurance yet you took him down in under ten seconds. sure it may have been a disadvantage to peter because he was caught off guard but he should've been able to take you down still.
now was tony going to let the chance of a lifetime slip by? no, of course he was immediately thinking of recruiting you. your dad had been right about you being a prodigy. you adapted to new skills quickly and you were perfect for recruitment.
"hey kid, wanna be an avenger?"
your eyes widened and your jaw dropped in shock. steve immediately turned to him, an incredulous look on his face as he glared dangerously at the billionaire. "stark, you wanna think about this for a minute?"
"thank about what, cap? you saw what she did to the spiderling. and she successfully hacked into my system on her first try and we took weeks to trace her. romanoff back me up here," he saw how impressed natasha was by you and he knew the redhead wasn't going to disagree. "stark's right, steve. she's only fourteen and she's capable of so much already. we need someone like her."
"exactly! she's only fourteen! this life is dangerous for her!" steve argued. peter then tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "hey, mr rogers, i'm a sixteen-year-old avenger and she took me down easily. not gonna lie, it hurt my pride, also my back when you flipped me over your shoulder," he turned to you but you didn't say anything because you couldn't see his facial expression. "but i think she's going to be okay, sir."
steve sighed before turning to you, the defeated expression on his face softening when you looked up at him with your doe eyes and a small smile. you didn't answer to tony just yet since it seemed that steve had a say in it as well but you were dying to say yes. not only were you not going to be reported for your crimes but to be recruited by iron man himself to be an avenger? who could say no to that? not you, at least, since you had nothing better to do with your life at the moment.
"well, what do you say, kid?"
your smile grew and you nodded happily. the team couldn't help but crack a smile at how happy you looked for the first time since they've encountered you.
"well, you should go pack your important stuff so we can go back to the tower. you're going to be moving in if you're an official member of the avengers." tony told you and you nodded, walking towards your room to start packing while the team sat on the couch to wait for you.
"wait, what's going to happen to my nana?" you turned back towards them, worry etched onto you face. "don't worry about it, kid. you can give me the details later and i'll settle it. she'll be in good hands." he assured. "okay." you mumbled in response.
you were actually going to be an avenger. "awesome.." you grinned to yourself as you packed.
#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers x teen!reader#tony stark x teen!reader#captain america x teen!reader#steve rogers x teen!reader#natasha romanoff x teen!reader#teen!reader#peter parker x reader#marvel#marvel x reader
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Stranger Than Fanfiction
At exactly 11:37 PM, [Villain] crashed through the unsuspecting civilian's ceiling.
[Civilian] screeched, yanking off her headphones as she gaped at the scene before her. Apparently the criminal had caught her in the middle of another writing session, judging by the computer wide open to another document. How perfect.
Next thing she knew, there was nothing left of her desktop except smashed remains.
"Did you know how much I had to save for that?" [Civilian] whined, picking up the broken pieces of the love of her life. "I just bought this a month ago!"
[Villain] shrugged, relief evident in their eyes as they watched the girl's shoulders sag in defeat. "Let this be a lesson for you. This is what happens when you post hero/villain romance snippets on tumblr dot com."
[Civilian] blinked in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"
"Those posts were truly insulting, you know. I could never score a nemesis to my name. How stereotypical of you to assume that all villains have their own respective heroes." [Villain] scoffed.
At that confession, the heat in [Civilian]'s face faded. Plopping back into her chair, she looked at [Villain] awkwardly. "I thought you had Arachnid? You guys seemed like a good pair."
[Villain] side-eyed them. "It's true that I collide with them on a regular basis, but they're already Phantom's signature enemy. It would be madness to take that away from my co-worker."
Oh. She put a hand to her chin. "What about Eltrocus?"
"My sidekick likes that one."
"Themis?"
"Don't fight often."
"Hypnosis?"
"They don't even know I exist."
"So you really don't have anyone?"
[Villain] proceeded to make an empty gesture with their hands.
Well, that was certainly something. Scooting closer to the outlaw, the civilian put a hand on their shoulder. "You don't need a hero to be a great villain. In the long run, what you've accomplished really matters."
"Doesn't stop me from feeling left out though," [Villain] sighed. They squirmed out of her touch, stepping toward the window. "There are so many iconic dynamics that will be named in history. But I will forever be known as a background lackey, never to be mentioned by name."
"Anyway," [Villain] chirped. "Don't go posting anymore of that nonsense. It's not just pure assumptions; It's very, very horribly written."
And so, the villain swung out of the room and plunge into the darkness, leaving her with a crumbling household to contact insurance about. She stood limply for a while, staring into blank space. No rival, huh?
[Civilian] picked up a pen and tattered notebook, sketching out a suit design.
She'd just have to fix that then.
#my writing#not a prompt#hero villain snippet#writing snippet#snippet#hero x villain#villain x hero#villain x civilian#civilian x villain#heroes and villains#hero#villain#this is badly written lol#i didn't edit this
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Yearn for You | jjk (m)
◊ Pairing: vice president and boyfriend!jungkook x secretary and girlfriend!reader x ceo!jimin ft. co-founder!taehyung
◊ Genre: fluff and smut / established relationship / office au
◊ Rating: 18+ / nsfw
◊ Word Count: 31.5k (honestly another whopper but are we surprised?)
◊ Summary: As a secretary, it is not proper to engage in intimate affairs with your superior, who is the one you are meant to be at their beck and call for in the business world. The world, however, means very little to Jungkook, the vice president of Bangtan Industries and more importantly, your boss and boyfriend of three years. In all that time, he has never cared for hiding your passionate affections for one another and tonight will be no different after a particularly amusing day of teasing you and watching you fall prey to your desires for him that he revels in amidst his fervid love for you. In that love that has shifted his entire globe in how completely and wholly he has fallen for you, he will do anything to make you, his beloved girlfriend, happy. So, after some efforts to toy with you, he allows you to have some playtime with a very special friend whilst he delights himself in your entertaining little game.
◊ Warnings: hard dom!jungkook, possessive/jealous!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, sub!jimin, lots of dirty talk, pet names, lots and lots of teasing, praise, fingering, grinding, thigh riding, phone sex (taehyung listens in on the threesome), masturbation (male and female), cunnilingus/oral sex, unprotected sex (reader has birth control implant in her arm and Koo hates condoms lbr), breast/nipple play, biting (there’s a bunch), marking through hickeys, sucking, pussy stretching, rough and possessive sex, anal sex, double penetration (this is a jikook threesome with reader y’all), cock riding, cock warming, begging, muscle kink, scratching, light choking, cum feeding/eating, manhandling, pinning down, multiple orgasms, wet and messy sex, degradation kink (koo calls you a slut/whore for him only like two or three times each), orgasm control, orgasm denial, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, daddy kink, reader goes into subspace for a little bit, mild bdsm, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex and aftercare (from jungkook)
◊ A/N: Gosh, this one is finally here after two weeks! This fic is not like anything I have ever written before, but I know that there will be people out there that like this! It’s very hot if I do say so myself and it was such a joy to write in my lust-filled craze that I’ve been inflicted with in the wake of D’ICON Jungkook (even though that particular look is not part of this fic lmao). I blame Jungkook’s overwhelming sexiness that always has me ready to drop to my knees for this fic because honestly it’s all his fault.
Oh, and I know some of my readers have been waiting for COC, but because I have been tight on money, I decided to write this as a commission for the wonderful @jeonsjiddies. I hope you like it, babe! Oh, and that lovely banner you see above? That is courtesy of the fantastic @nightshadevinter. I thank the both of you for your continued support of my work and do hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I was entertained by writing it.
As always, guys, please let me hear your thoughts on my work! There’s nothing that is more gratifying as an author than to get feedback on what you spent so much of your time creating! Finally, if Tumblr is crashing because the fic is so long, you can find the AO3 link right here !
The day’s hours wane amidst the sun that sets behind you as you watch the last of your coworkers slip through the elevator doors of the twenty-story building, your heels clicking against the marbled tiling of the highest floor in the corporate property belonging to Bangtan Industries, the most well-known architectural firm in the industry.
In one hand you have papers fresh out of the printer, your eyes trained on the small font that outlines the topics of discussion and areas of interest for tomorrow’s meeting as you skim through them. As the secretary of both the vice president and the CEO of the company, you had always been the mediator of their affairs, which meant that you never had a moment of rest while at the office.
Because your charge was attending to the ever incessant happenings between your bosses as the two most high-ranking individuals in the company, you never had a moment of respite (not that you minded). The constant hustle and hullabaloo that was dealt in their wake left you in an ever flowing state of motion and you liked the grind. It meant you never were bored by their occupancies at work, for they always ensured that you had something to busy yourself with.
The fact that your CEO looked to have been brought to life by an artist’s brush in his beauty while your vice president (and consequently, your boyfriend after some years together) appeared to have been sculpted by the gods in his handsomeness surely was a bonus, however, for whenever your sight would begin to blur because of long hours spent drafting and writing across your computer screen, a simple glimpse at either of them had your visage instantly clearing in the clarity of attraction that perceived itself between your legs when they’d stare back at you in stolen moments of passing.
As you scavenge the paperwork for any errs that you may have missed, you don’t notice the silhouette the crosses the cubicles hedging the floor as you navigate through the maze of them, your irises narrowing as you huff in the realization that you forgot to properly align the addendum toward the end of the files in your hurry to finish and be out of the office after six o’clock per the orders of your CEO.
When you cross the threshold to your office, the walls of glass that are curtained with silvery gold silk are opened to allow the sun to bathe you in its comforting heat that settles warmly over your stiff bones as you drop the paperwork atop your desk and rest your hand on it as you let your eyelids fall over your irises with the sun that coaxes you to luxuriate in its golden rays in a momentary lapse of silent solace from the toils of the day’s efforts.
Behind you, a shadow cloaks you before a deep, low-timbre voice swathes you in its hold as it teases, “Enjoying the afternoon sun, baby? You should really head on home right about now, hmm? It’s getting late,” his eyes trail down your back and drop to the swell of your ass that strains against the small, short pencil skirt it is pushed up against before he continues, “We wouldn’t want the boss to get mad because you broke rules and stayed past six o’clock, now would we?”
“Vice President Jungkook,” you squeak, his voice stringing you up and twining you around the fingers that-after many years of dreaming about them- now touch you in your most intimate sectors of your body in his unceasing relentlessness of rapturous intent that drive him to find himself between your legs every night, morning and afternoon that he could entertain. You had once wondered how a man could possibly rival an incubus in how he seemed to thrive with the more that you gave him and before him, you’d been abstinent as a nun. He had quickly changed that once you’d succumbed to his dark promises that had been wrapped in sin’s lace as he’d covered you with them with a tongue too long to be anything but devilish. It’s been years since you first got together, but he still renders you to be in need of an exorcist in the spirit of sex that has possessed your soul in its binding to him.
You put a hand to your chest in startlement before you turn to face him to go on, “I didn’t hear you come in. Is there something you wanted to discuss? I just was going to finish up Jimin’s,” you clear your throat under his constricting gaze that constringes you for a battle of air as you correct yourself, “the CEO’s itinerary for Wednesday after fixing up the topic outline for tomorrow’s meeting with the board of directors.”
It was amazing how after several years together, he could still whisk your breath away from you with one glance.
Your superior hums, “Mmm, busy girl as always, aren’t you?” He takes a step inside your office, the sun’s light beams a stark contrast to the dark suit he wears that is colored black like the night sky, the silvery stitching in thin lines along his coat shining like streaks of falling stars in the movement as he suavely exhorts, “Did you happen to have time to send to me my travel arrangements for the week? Make sure you clear time for yourself to attend the gala with me on Thursday. I meant to tell you that earlier when you were feeding me my lunch in my office,” he confides lowly as two hands grip the edge of the chair that sits in front of your desk while he carries on, “Thank you for that, by the way. My hand was so sore from constructing the miniature model of the new tower we are building. I’m so glad you were there to assist me in erecting it and that you could sate my hunger earlier today. I was ravenous, you see.”
Your cheeks flame in remembrance of the way his deft, long tongue had wrapped around the fork you’d presented to him, the creamy alfredo sauce coating his pink lips suspiciously similar to the cum he’d expertly and easily draw out of you every time he ravaged you or the essence you’d taint yourself with during the forbidden hours of the night when you touched yourself to fantasies of him in the midst of his absence due to the longer hours that he was required to work at the firm.
You’d never heard anyone groan from ‘the succulent taste of the meal’ as your vice president had, but you’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy every delicious sound that had dripped from his mouth as he’d opened his lips to welcome you when you’d draped the noodles across his tongue.
Needless to say that after that particular encounter, you’d had to escape to the bathroom for about twenty minutes to relieve the ache between your thighs that had garnished and cooked your insides for him until you burned with the need to release the steam that wouldn’t escape you without his guiding hand.
In all of that, you’d been entirely oblivious to the two sets of eyes that had been fixated on you while they watched you with utter absorption. With the visage of your cheeks that had reddened from the blood that had rushed to them and the slow, uneven walk you’d taken back to your office amidst your thighs that stung from your efforts, it had been all too apparent that you hadn’t really gone to use the restroom for the purpose it was intended to be used for.
Jungkook himself had smirked at that and when his irises had switched away from you and to his own boss, the CEO, whom had his own workspace directly next to his own, Jimin’s teeth had gnawed on his lower lip until you disappeared behind the curtains of your office before resuming with the Skype conference with one of the company’s chairmen.
With your head full of your illicit indecency that the man standing in front of you now had caused earlier, you try to fight past the fluttery feeling in your chest as you splutter, “U-um, well, it was no problem at all!” You croak as one of his brows lift in amusement as you fidget under his all-encompassing stare to blurt, “Always a, uh, pleasure helping you, Jungkook.”
Truly, you don’t know how you managed to acquire a degree in English with how eloquence seems to suddenly be a foreign concept to your mind, but your vice president seems to be wholly unbothered and oppositely entertained by it as one side of his lips lift while he cocks his head to the side to divulge, “A pleasure indeed, Y/N,” his voice dips as he comes ever closer to you, his palms now splaying over your desk as his long, iron colored tie swings forward to dangerously dangle close to your own hand that twitches in the want to grasp it and pull him forward until his lips have nowhere to go but on your own as he urges, “You always take care of me so well. I want to return the favor to you, but I just,” his irises lower from your eyes to your mouth as you draw your lip between your teeth and when they rise back up once more, he professes, “can’t put my finger,” he drums his index and middle fingers along the timber of your desk, “on how I want to repay the favor.”
Memories of last night filter through your mind like an echoing song as they tune your brain to the way he’d pummeled into you, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he’d ravished you after you’d begged him to let you ride his face and you’d dared to sit back and grab his cock in the midst of his attentions to your pussy. You’d screamed through the delicious pleasure that was too much to bear and he’d been more than eager to leave you a mess of limbs and cum on the bed in his wake as he’d fucked you so crazedly, his efforts guided by the need to see you ruined with his seed a success in how mercilessly he’d given it to you and how greedy you’d been to take it all.
Heat floods your core at the anything but holy thoughts, for your boyfriend surely became a demon in bed that you would gladly fall to your knees to be taken by over and over again.
“You,” you swallow past the lump in your throat and have to remind yourself to keep your legs locked together lest you succumb to the urge to rub them against each other as you give a choked answer, “you don’t have to do anything. My salary is payment enough.”
“Oh, but is it? Is there nothing else I could give you to show you how much I appreciate you?” He looms closer, his raven’s wing hued hair kissing at the tips of his cheeks while tenderly embracing the sides of his forehead amidst the hands of oils that part it down the middle and slick it in their essence as he inquires, “Is there not some kind of bonus that you desire? Say it and it is yours, my beloved secretary. After all,” his eyes glint tellingly, “you’ve always been such a good girl for me. I want to reward you, beautiful. Will you let me?”
“Jungkook,” your cheeks heat up as you whimper, “Please.”
You try not to think about the implications of what your response might lead one to believe, but under his heady gaze, there’s little you can do but let your words tumble from your mouth.
He’s called you beautiful a number of times whilst in the presence of other clients and coworkers and each time, your heart had done a flip against your ribcage. The fifth month after he’d become your boyfriend, you’d once questioned him why he called you that and he’d simply shrugged his shoulders before offering, “I should think you would know, pretty girl. It’s because I find you attractive.”
You’d gone home that night after he’d vowed to bring you your favorite takeout food to make up for having to stay longer at the firm and you’d hugged him with the dumbest smile stretching across your features before turning to leave while he’d smiled fondly at you as you’d skipped like a lovestruck teenager all the way back to your apartment and wondered all night long what he might have been doing while you’d put on your favorite k-drama and bundled yourself up in blankets for your nightly binge of the show, your thoughts void of anything and everything that was not Jungkook in your straying attention from your tv session that was entirely your boyfriend’s fault.
When he’d come home to you that night, he’d made sure you victualed atop his lap while you’d fidgeted with an ulterior motive leading your body, your moans of enjoyment for the soup he spooned to you all too loud and drawn out amidst your purposeful movements that had been quick to have him hardening beneath you and before you’d known what had happened, he’d thrown you atop the table and fucked you well into the morning hours.
Now, in the silence that has seeped through the office in the lack of occupancy that is limited only to you and your two bosses, the word has an entirely sinful meaning in the deepness he’s pillaged it with.
When he darkly chuckles, mischievousness and everything that promises lasciviousness colors the sound as he pushes off your desk and stalks damningly closer to you, his much taller frame engulfing your own as he hovers before you to lowly inquire, “What do you want, beautiful? Say it,” he steers himself around the desk until he stands in front of you, anticipation welling up within you as he wraps one arm around you until one palm is pressed against the small of your back and in one fluid motion, he streams your body against his, your breasts cascading along his chest as you suck in a breath at the rocky plane of muscle laid over him even through layers of clothing, your hands-as if siphoned forth to him-planting themselves along his pectorals as he utters, “Tell your boss how bad you want it.”
“Vice President,” your breath hitches when another hand boldly finds purchase along your ass before it slides down to cup your thigh as he pulls your leg up and around him so that it is wrapped around his slim, hourglass waist as you fight the mists of lust that cloud your abdomen as you try, “we c-can’t. This isn’t…it’s not proper.”
“Do you think I give a damn about niceties when you’re fucking tempting me with how short that little skirt that barely covers your ass is?” He growls as he ducks his head, his lips ghosting along the sensitive junction just under your ear as the hand on your thigh trails upward, his digits just grazing your panties as you shakily sigh out while his other hand dives under your blouse before he husks, “Do you think it is proper to go in the bathroom and fuck yourself with your fingers after you fucking fed me with them? Huh?”
“You were watching me, vice president?” You gulp at the realization that he knew, “I thought I had been discreet…”
“Such a dirty little girl,” he muses as the fingers he’s snuck under your V-necked linen shirt run along your skin in languid circles before he blows a puff of warm air against your neck, your skin prickling in his wake as he noses at your jaw, “Did you honestly think that when you went to the ladies room for twenty fucking minutes that I timed on my watch that I didn’t know what you were doing?” His lips brush against the column of your neck as you let your head fall back in silent offering to him as he goes on, “Did you honestly believe that when you walked out of there and wafted the smell of sex across the office that I couldn’t fucking tell what you were doing in there as you fucked yourself while you thought about me?”
Caught as you are in his hold, you cannot escape the mortification that drops like an anchor to your shoulders and then down through the bowels of your body in its infinite heaviness at the realization that he’s got you red-handed. Embarrassment is what has your lids closing in your inability to see the source of your lust swim in the knowledge of the waters of your sins that streamed from him.
Despite it all, his digits draggle along your southward lips as he rubs them against your pussy, your walls clenching around nothing as he groans at the wetness that begins to coat your panties as he coos, “Fuck, you’re so naughty, babygirl. Look at that pretty cunt cry for me because it’s been neglected without the only one that really satisfies it,” his finger pulls the ruined cloth away from you and suddenly the hand that had been exploring the ridges of your spine dips in its exploration to pool around your hip and with a dangerous flash of his eyes, he pulls you down over a semi-hardening bulge between his legs, a moan slipping from your lips as he impels you against his member to grunt, “You like this, baby? Does it turn you on to know that I’m aware that you got off to me in the bathroom? Would’ve been so fucking hot to see you get fucked with your fingers, baby. God, it’s making me hard just thinking about it.”
His dirty words soil you in as he covers you with them just as tangibly as you’d been spoiled by your own juices, your brain short circuiting in the jolts of heat he wracks you with as his touch thunders over your skin that begins dewing with the beads of sweat in the high temperature that he flusters you with.
From the very first time you’d seen him years ago in the shabby little bar where time had seemed to stop as you’d locked eyes with him while he passed you by, you had been under his spell and now, as he holds you to him with desire simmering in his gaze, you’re struck with that sensation of beating wings in your chest as you let him finally lay his lips over the junction of skin along your collarbone, the pillow of his lips bedding themselves over you lightly as the fingers of one of your hands curl inward into his shirt in your effort to hold onto something to ground yourself against the lightness lifting at your insides as you manage the only word that your mind can possibly internalize in the midst of your fading cognition with a whisper, “Jungkook.”
Your vice president smirks against your skin as he bedecks you in his osculation. Saliva is left in his aftermath as featherlight kisses are flitted along your collarbone and when the hand on your waist pushes you down onto him to urge your hips into moving, you whine as he combines this with the stroke of his fingers at your steadily swelling bud of nerves that gardens the flower of your pussy.
“Answer to me, beautiful,” he brings you both back until his back hits the glass wall, his hips instantly rolling into yours as he coaxes your other leg to join your other around his waist before he flicks a long, hot tongue along your mastoid that cords your neck as he declares, “If you want me to fuck you like I know you’ve been craving for me to,” he mouths against you, “Tell me how much you fucking want me, beautiful. Let me hear how badly you need me to take you because you can’t possibly be pleased by anyone else, pretty girl.”
Heat swirls in your belly as he lazily draws shapes into your clit, his member hardening impossibly more for you when you grind yourself against him while you wrap both arms around him to brace yourself as you hump him like an animal in rut, the hand he’d had on your hip quickly cupping your ass to hold you up while he stares hotly at you.
Knowing that you will face punishment in the bedroom later if you do not do as he asks, you try to wrack your brain for the string of words that you need to scramble out of their jumblement amidst the need that throws them into a whirl as you breathe, “Want you, Jungkook. I want you so badly. Please, let me-“
“Oh, but do you think you deserve it, Y/N? Do you believe you should be allowed to have my cock when you denied me for so long today?” He taunts, his teeth taking your earlobe between them as he continues, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to put my cock inside that little cunt of yours? How many times I thought about bending you over this damned table and fucking you into oblivion?” You gasp in the risqué admission as he sweeps you over him, his wrist disentangling from your clit to pull your skirt up so that he has no obstructions while he shamelessly ogles your dripping cunt before you lower yourself down on him to earn a cautionary hiss from him, “Watch it, beautiful. If you can’t control yourself, I’ll take you right fucking here in the middle of your office. If I can wait all day to finally have the chance to fuck you again after you denied me, so can you.”
"Why did you, ah-" he slots one thick thigh under you, a cocksure grin spreading over his features as he helps you thrust yourself over the thatch of muscles lining every inch of his leg, your voice cracking when both hands clutch your ass as he pulls you down and over him to brokenly whisper, "Why did you take all day to finally fuck me, sir-" your lips are suddenly captured in a heated kiss, his mouth roughly claiming yours as your head falls back while he flicks his tongue along the roof of your mouth to claim every bit of you before he pulls away to leave you heaving as you try again- "I-I wanted you to come to me earlier when I was in the b-bathroom,” your breaths are labored from the air he’s thieved from you to leave only your wanton admission, “wanted you to give me your cock and t-take me against the wall while I begged you to let me have your cum inside me...”
"Such a little slut for me, aren’t you? You didn’t have enough cock this morning when I stuffed it between your hungry little lips and fucked your face? You know," he groans when one of your hands slides down his defined chest as you drag it to its destination before settling over the fully hardened member as you gyrate your hips atop him, " I taught you that when you want something, you ask, yeah? Could’ve had what you needed if you’d just been obedient and used that fucking mouth to request a good fuck, but instead, I had to use my fucking hand to imagine it was your pretty little cunt that my cock was in," you whimper at his confession, your fingers curling over his member as you swirl your hips up and down his leg in a frenzy, your core heating like a wildfire when his eyes darkly flash, " You're going to suffer as I did, pretty girl. You're going to feel how fucking desperate you made me while I jacked off to pictures and videos I recorded of you when you were innocently batting your eyes at me from all the way over here while I was in my office with my hand on my cock."
“Jungkook,” you whine, “I don’t know if I can take that. Not agai-“
"Oh, but you will, baby. You will do what I say because I'm the fucking boss, yeah?" One hand gropingly lifts from your ass to grasp at a bra-clad tit, a whimper falling from your lips when he squeezes hard and with his other hand, his fingers sink into your side as he pivots your waist down on his thigh, his muscles jumping at you and catching at your core as he urges you over him and in response, your fingers constrict around him to earn a hiss, "God, it was too easy to make you fall apart on me. Come on, baby," he challenges as he takes your lip between his teeth to nip at you, "Show me what you've got, yeah? Fuck yourself on me. You have sixty-nine seconds to finish before I pull you off me and go back to my office."
With his demand, you’ve no choice but to obey and instantly, you bear your hips down on him with renewed fervor, the firm and solid thew tautening beneath you as clamp him between your legs while you sway yourself back and forth like a seesaw, a moan stuttering from you when he pushes aside your shirt to grip one breast in his hand, his digits expertly rolling your nipple between them as you teeter precariously atop him, your waist stammering amidst his ministrations when slams his mouth against yours once more, his tongue thrusting inside your warmth as he captures you under his osculation and possessively wraps his wet muscle around yours as he steals your breath away.
When he pulls away, you chase him with growing hunger that latches itself to you, your mouth connecting to his in a softer kiss as you kittenishly lick at him while he kneads at your breast.
Your core clenches around nothing when he pairs this with a harsh propulsion of his thigh into your cunt as his sinewy skin slides deliciously along your clothed cunt, the tingling friction finding every inch of your pussy as you avidly grind against him.
You compress your fingers over his rock hard cock that has your salivary glands producing excess spittle in want of him and when you dare to start rubbing him there while you busily buss his jawline that you think might cut you in its sharpness if you aren’t careful, that’s when he growls out, “God, you’re such a fucking minx,” he angles his head back to welcome your lips against him, “Time’s ticking, princess. You have ten seconds.”
“Jungkook, please, I…I’m almost there,” you cry out, “Please don’t leave me,” you blurt as you bounce on his thigh rapaciously while you fervidly litter his neck with the stains of your crimson lipstick, “I’ll do anything,” you beg as he smirks while he watches you with interest, “I’ll let you do anything you want to me later, just…please, let me cum. I’ve thought about this all day long, thought about you fucking me all day long,” you blabber as your pride is burned away by his searing gaze while he pushes his thigh impossibly deeper into you as you whine out, “let me finish, sir.”
Perhaps it the fact that your boyfriend is quite honestly the hottest man you’ve ever seen walk the earth (really, how could you ever be satisfied with anyone else when your boss and boyfriend is a literal incarnate of sin and sex) or maybe it is because he’d edged you this morning in the shower, for his much longer and larger fingers had played with you like you were his favorite toy and that had you quickly winding up around him. Despite your cries, he’d not let you come after disobeying his orders to speak after he’d all but fucked your brains out following round four of your sexual escapades with each other on the kitchen table, the couch and the wall and then the bed. Maybe it is both of those, but you've never been so quick to rile up and Jungkook, the one who has his strings attached to you like you’re his damned puppet, well… it is easy for you to see why you are at the edge of the precipice he dangles you over with his strong threads.
He observes with amusement the way that you work yourself avariciously over him, your lips insistent in lavishing him with your attentions as you line his throat with the red coloring you’d put on your mouth until he’s decorated with it like a painting you’d artfully drawn yourself. He lets the seconds pass beyond what he’d told you, delight lighting at his eyes as he sees the relief wash through yours in the slow surety that streams in your irises beside it in your thoughts that he’s going to allow you to find your end.
It’s when your thighs begin tremble from the labors of your efforts and a low pant starts to push itself between your lips as you undulate yourself against him that the large hand on your breast twirls your nipple between deft fingers, fire flaring through your core as you moan out his name.
“That’s it, baby. Say it louder for me,” he groans as he bucks his hips against you, a devious glint in his eye gleaming at you that only has you burning hotter for him as he husks, “Let Jimin know who you’re fucking yourself like a dirty little girl on.”
Your end is near and you’re so close to plummeting into your end, but he holds you from it and refuses to let you fall into it. Not yet, anyway.
“Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”
Your boss hums, “Mmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He pinches your nipple only to cause you to squirm, the slight pain shooting sparks down to your pussy that clenches for him. He growls at this, for the flutter of your southward lips against his thigh has his cock throb beneath your fingers that still stroke him and suddenly, his hand is gone from your tit and instead finds its place in your hair that he clutches and yanks you forward with so that your chest is pressed flush against his front as his eyes flash darkly and he hisses, “Too bad, baby. I let you fucking use me so I could see how desperate I could make you while you tried to get yourself off. Now that I have you,” he torturously extricates his thigh from between yours and you all but sob at the loss of him as he sets you down on the floor, the hand in your hair wrenching forward until he crashes his lips to yours and sucks your tongue between his teeth as if he wants to devour you and all the while, the hand on your hip sidles down and, while he’s got your eyes falling closed, they shoot open as you moan into his mouth when he cups your sex, his middle finger prodding your hole and when he pulls them both away, carnality dilates his pupils as he declares, “I’m going to make you my fucking whore.”
Air evades you, but the fire lighting up in your core sustains the need for him as you attach your hands to his shirt to hold on for dear life in the midst of your weakened, feeble knees that have lost their strength in how much of it he’s sapped from you in your kisses. You shakily exhale what little of it remains as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, your shyness starting to return now that the haze of hormones clouding your brain is gradually rescinding in the lack of his touch.
Breathlessly, you whimper, “Need you now, Jungkook. Please-“
You’re effectively silenced when he presses his pointer finger to your lips to quiet you, your labored suspirations wrapping warmly around his digit as he croons, “Shhh…I know, babygirl. I’m so fucking hard for you right now,” his fingers enclose your wrist to coax you to put more pressure on his member and you do, your eyes fixing on how much smaller your hand is compared to his own as you urges you to run your hand back and forth over him as he groans, “Feel that? That’s all for you, baby. God, that little mouth felt like heaven around me this morning. Did I tell you that? Did I mention how beautiful you looked with tears falling from those pretty eyes? Fuck, you were so cute with spit dripping from those lips while you sucked me off like a needy little slut.”
You choke a strangled sound out at that while you burrow your face deeper into his neck as if to escape from the filth he wants to dirty you with, but you don’t get too far with the way that his finger taps expectantly on your lip as he prods at you and you need no further instruction than that as you tentatively open your mouth to welcome the digit he promptly slides in as he praises, “There you go, babygirl. Such a good girl even when I deny you your orgasm. You know you deserve to have it withheld from you, don’t you?”
You lick at his finger in answer as you breathe, “Yes, sir. I’ve been bad to you today, haven’t I? I’m sorry,” you try a new tactic in effort to release some tension that has coiled into a knot deep in your belly as you whisper, “Will you let me make it up to you, handsome? Want your big, fat cock inside me so badly…”
You let your words be swallowed within your mouth as you close it around him only to suction your wet warmth around his digit, a grunt quick to release itself from him as his pupils blow wide at the sinful sight of his finger disappearing into your mouth. His mouth parts at the lewd sounds that escape your mouth as you take him inside you, your tongue flicking against him with precision as you lock your eyes on his and in them he sees the kindling of desire that smokes and hazes them over.
“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he watches as you innocently blink at him with your head still nestled onto his shoulder and when you swallow around him, that has him twitching under your hand that continues to palm at him, his fingers tightening around your wrist as he husks, “Are you that fucking gone for me? Shit, baby. If that’s how you are with just my finger, imagine how you’ll be with my fucking cock shoved in your pretty pussy.”
“Want it,” you mumble around his finger as you lave at his digit,” want you so much. Please, Jungkook, take me.”
“So desperate for me. Just how I like you, babygirl. If you want me that bad,” he pries his finger from your mouth, both of you watching the string of spittle that follows him before breaking off and only then does he lean forward, his lips just shy of touching yours as he commands, “Come to me in five minutes. I need to have a quick word with one of the representatives of the company for funding and then I’ll have the rest of the night to fucking ravage you, yeah?” He pushes off the window while he drags your hand away from him and you can’t deny the cold that is left in his absence when he moves away from you and you pout because of it while tucks your skirt back down.
He grins at the way your knees buckle and, responsively, he helps you to sit down. One tattooed hand finds its place on your hip while the other splays possessively over your abdomen as he walks you backward and once he’s got you sitting, you catch the way his hands linger as if he doesn’t want to let you go, but with an imploring look you tell him more than your words would convey as you place one of your own hands over his while you urge him to stay with a small squeeze of your fingers over his.
He’s utterly gone for the way you adorably purse your lips as if to plead with him and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your boss that you whine as he pulls away to chuckle to himself while he strides away from you. In his absence, your pussy yearns for him as it deposits even more of your taint into your ruined panties in his tormenting separation from you.
By now, he’s at your door and before he disappears, he turns with his back still facing you to add, “Oh, and one more thing,” his irises dip down as he gestures to a dampened, wet patch on his pant leg where you’d been sat atop of earlier before he peers back up at you with a hooded gaze, “If I find out you finished yourself off in here without me,” his voice becomes brusque as he deepens it,” The only thing that cunt will have jammed in it for the next few months will be the vibrator you brought to work last week.”
“How did you,” you clear your throat amidst the clog that has clumped itself in a ball within the middle of it,” you heard about that? You saw that?”
“I’ve heard the whispers that all the women believe they are too quiet for me to detect, but you,” He flicks a sculpted brow up as embarrassment mutes you, your cheeks coloring themselves red as the remnants of lipstick that still remain on your mouth as he pokes his tongue against his cheek in a sight that has you instantly wanting to get on your knees once more for him as he says, “you’re such a slave to your desire for me that you just can’t keep that little mouth shut, that you just can’t help but to tend to that needy little cunt because of me,” his eyes scintillate with sin, “you thought I didn’t notice you take that vibrator to the supply closet with you after I had you massage my thighs that you like to tell the other women that you love so much, but I did, baby,” he watches you rub your thighs together, a pained sound resounding from your lips as he finishes, “You put on such a show for me on the camera I have installed in there. God, you have no idea how bad I wanted to fuck you senseless while you tried to stop yourself from calling my name.”
Your jaw just about drops at his admission, mortification causing you to wrap your arms around yourself as if that will make you smaller against the very large realization that he knew of your feral treachery and with a devastating grin, he leaves you a heaping wet mess on your chair as you try to figure out how one man could be responsible for turning you into a human succubus that needed sex with him as much as you needed air to breathe for your body.
In the silence that follows your boyfriend and boss, all that can be heard are the perpetually unrelenting ticks of a small wooden clock atop your desk. They chink to the uneven beats of your heart that pounds against your chest as you clutch at it to count the breaths that elude your contracting lungs against the tethers that Jungkook himself had put there.
Trying to focus now would be like attempting to look away from your boyfriend while he’s stark naked and lounging on the living room recliner in readied receival of you after being away from him for the three-week long and very lonely secretarial seminar that Jimin sends you to every now and then to keep you sharp in your duties that you were expected to carry out as the unofficial manager of both the CEO and Vice President of Bangtan Industries.
It just doesn’t compute in your mind that has gone haywire in the wake of Jungkook that you can do anything but to keep your attention fixated on the little circular face of the clock, its spindly hands moving far too slow for your liking as you try not to think too much on the teardrops your sex cries in its grief of losing him. When you make the mistake of shifting and sibilate at how drenched you really are in the movement, you look away at your soaked skirt to find it ruined where your sex sits, a groan coming from you as you battle the urge to just bring one or two fingers to your clit to water the fire of need burning there.
“Jungkook,” you whisper to no one in particular, “You fucking win.”
Heat still washes you through in the fluidity and you clench your hands into fists atop the table as the waves of it try to ebb your hand down to relieve you of the need that swelters within your core and you are quick to lay your forehead against the desk in need of a colder landscape to battle the Sahara desert’s scorch that has manifested itself in your belly.
“That’s what I thought, doll. Better not touch yourself, baby,” the familiar voice of your boyfriend chimes through the multiline phone system sat next to your computer, your eyes widening as your back straightens and you sit up with widened eyes, your hand quickly jerking away from your womanhood as you stare surprisedly at the red blinking button that signifies that presently, you are being recorded. He must have turned it on when he’d been sitting you down and, like a siren, you’d been entirely lulled by his distraction.
“Jungkook, I-“
“You don’t get to make excuses when I heard you fucking moan with how badly you must want to use your fingers to relieve yourself of me. It’s hard, isn’t, baby?” You can see the shit-eating smirk he gives you even from the other end of the line as he sonorously says, “I would advise that you don’t try anything without me, love. Because if you do,” his voice hardens,” I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.”
“Need you,” you whine as you push your breasts against the wood in effort to stimulate yourself elsewhere as you try, “Please, sir, let me touch myself. I can’t take it without you.”
“Oh, but you must, pretty girl,” he voice dips deliciously, “If you put so much as one finger on that little clit of yours,” he threatens, “I promise you’ll get none of this cock for a long time. I am a patient creature, beautiful, but you? You are not and I’m going to teach you what happens when you want to get me hard while I’m at work, you fucking vixen.”
“But…” you don’t get to say much else because he’s fast to cut you off.
“But? There are no buts, babygirl. Sit there and obey like a good girl. Got it?” His domineering tone captures you in its hold as you grimace in the banishment of sensation you’d been trying to quell with the aridity searing your core.
He expertly extricates your own voice as you submissively tell him, “I understand, sir. I’m…I’m sorry I’m so needy.”
“That’s more like it, pretty girl. Be daddy’s good girl, yeah? He’s almost finished and when he’s done,” he lowly admits,” he’s going to fuck you until you can’t tell the north from the south.”
With that, the red button loses its light and fades with the end of the call and you don’t need to peer down to know that your skirt is beyond being saved by the air dryer in the bathroom.
To divert your attention anywhere but at your sopping core, you open your new Macbook Pro that Jungkook had recently gifted you only to find three new messages that have come in, each sliding along the upper right hand of the screen only to glide away after presenting themselves to you.
Two are from Jungkook and the other is from your CEO, Jimin.
Curiosity awakens in you and has you tilting your head as you open the older one first.
Jimin:
[1:45pm] What were you doing with Jungkook for lunch? You two were in there awfully long just for him to eat some Italian food. I was going to ask if you could chat with me about agendas and travel plans for the symposiums, but you seemed like you were in a hurry, so…
You chew at your lip at the memory of the way the off-white taint had dripped down the side of Jungkook’s lips and how he’d asked you to clean him up before pulling you into his lap so that you could lick it off with your tongue before he’d captured it in his mouth and given you the most passionate, intense French kiss you’d ever had as he sucked your wet warmth clean before pulling away ask for more.
For the life of you, you can’t remember if Jungkook’s blinds had been drawn in your fixation on each other. Since his office was directly next to and connected with Jimin’s, it was possible that if he hadn’t closed them that Jimin might have seen-
You click out of the message at the same time you cancel your thoughts from going down a network of ideas that would only make the unbearable pressure between your legs even heavier, your legs sticking together in your fidgeting movement as you hiss through the collection of your essence that coagulates there.
When you skid your mouse over only to click down on the mousepad and the next message pops up, you nearly fall to the floor with how quick you are to lean forward, your fingers gripping tightly onto the table to keep yourself from making contact with the carpeted ground as you read the next text.
Jungkook:
[2:36pm] Thanks for the meal, babygirl. You took such wonderful care of daddy. That alfredo sauce was delicious, but not as succulent and sweet as that pussy when I’ve got my mouth on it. I hope that pretty cunt is ready for me later when I put my fat fucking cock inside you and split you open on top of me. I’m hard for you right now, doll, but all good things come to those who wait, yeah?
[2:58] Oh, and I got you a dress to wear for that gala we are going to. I do believe you should have already made arrangements to attend, my precious petal. You’ll look so beautiful for me and I know you’ll be the belle of the ball. You’re going be all mine, pretty girl. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone before I tear that gown off you and show you who you belong to. And when you can’t walk anymore, I’ll carry you home and we can watch your favorite show while you lay on top of me so that I can play with your hair and tell you how exquisite you are while we eat macaroni and cheese and watch your k-drama that you like to put on so much :)
Truly, you don’t know how your boyfriend can turn your insides to mush with just a light glance or even a few words to then, a second later, have your core fluttering in anticipation of his dark vows. You had not one inch of doubt that he would make good on his promises and excitement flits through every contour of your body as you smile fondly at the screen.
The telltale ping that pongs through speakers set beside the two twin monitors behind your laptop bounces around the glass walls and suddenly your attention is ricocheted to those screens as your hand closes over the wireless mouse and you open the source of sound that you had chosen to alert you of incoming emails.
Amongst the thousands of emails, the bulk of them come from your bosses and the next mass of them originate from the plethora of dealers that your bosses worked with that often had to go through you before acquiring an audience with either of them.
Next were the intermediary reconciliations and discussions with coworkers outlining their status and progress on assignments within the firm that you were tasked with collecting and organizing before presenting it to Jungkook, who would relay it to Jimin. On occasion, you would report to Jimin first when he’d come to your office and sit down with you to discuss the overview of all the information, his eyes never straying from you even when you’d get up and walk about the room in your experiments to measure his interest in what you were talking about.
Jungkook set your body on fire in his scalding affections and attention, but Jimin…Jimin’s soft gaze that was speckled by the sugar of sweetness around you, well…it was like night and day.
You had come to love Jungkook as fiercely as the sun that has now ducked under the skyscrapers that rise high in the sky and Jimin had come to be someone you adored in the gracious geniality he swathed you in that contrasted so very much with Jungkook’s own feral ferociousness in how the latter had easily seized your heart in the palm of his hand.
With tangling thoughts of the two of them in your mind, you open the new email that was just sent moments ago. You don’t really know what to expect as you watch the circling icon in the middle of both screens as the content of the email loads, but the longer that you stare at the rotating wheel that-with every pass- has inquisitiveness circumnavigating and spiraling around you, the stronger that the emotion builds in you as you wait, your eyes only now just processing the subject of message.
Do you like this? Don’t think I forgot what you were telling me last week…
It’s innocent enough in the initial reading of it, but your mind really can’t help but to soil a more pure intent in lieu of a darker one if Jungkook is involved, after all. The man was insatiable and had tainted you with that same craving for him during every waking moment of your consciousness (and subsequently in your unconsciousness through your dreams that had become borderline pornographic in what your mind would conjure up illicit indecencies wrought upon you by your boyfriend).
When the spherical icon dissipates, so too does your last shred of self-restraint that is ripped away from you as you loudly whine out, your core clenching around nothing as you devour the eye candy.
Sweat sluices every bit of skin on both your boyfriend and Jimin, who are the models of the picture, and you’re quite certain that this might be the most profanely peccable thing that you’ve ever seen.
Jungkook smirks wickedly with his head thrown back against the wooden panel, his eyes closed and mouth parted in pleasure and the white t-shirt he wears sticks to his muscled chest to suck away its color in patches of perspiration that display wet blotches of where hidrosis has penetrated through the thin material to display musculature that the god of lust himself, you are convinced, had a hand in decorating him with.
His bicep bulges before the picture cuts off just below the upper half of his abs and you don’t need to think to know he’s jacking himself off with his face contorted into such a satisfied expression.
It is a sight that has your thighs rubbing together, a whimper sounding from you try to calm your breathing that has instantly become erratic in the breaths that refuse to stay lodged in your lungs as your boyfriend expels them expertly without even being physically present to do so.
It takes some effort to pull your irises away from Jungkook, who has you now on the edge of your seat as you rub your breasts against the edge of the wooden table in your need to feel his big, warm hands on you once again as you whisper, “Please…”
You lay your head on the table to ground yourself against something of the earthly plane before your soul descends to the fucking nether realm, but in so doing, your vision trails along Jungkook’s other arm that is pushed against Jimin’s own. The slightly older man has his head tilted so that his nape rests on Jungkook’s shoulder, his full lips open to permit sounds you wish you could hear while his eyes, like your boyfriend’s, are shut in a countenance twisted by rapture and you wonder what it is that they’re thinking about that they’ve both succumbed to.
Distantly, you want them to have been thinking of you, but self-consciousness nips at you despite it because how could two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen both be frozen in time like this through a picture of their pleasure amidst minds full only of you?
You shake your head at the thought and choose to fixate your attention back on Jimin, who has you salivating in the open v-cut black shirt that, with its short sleeves, leaves little to be imagined in the mound of muscle mounted along his own arms. He’s sitting back, like Jungkook, and is in the midst of his own sinful delight in the way that one arm is curled around his body in the way that it snakes downward and just out of the frame where you know his cock is in hand.
You make a pained sound in your solitude where neither of them can help you under Jungkook’s own order as you curse, “Damn you, Jungkook. You knew what this would do to me.”
You really don’t know how you’re able to look away from the delicatessen that is them, but when you slide one hand under the cup of your bra to clasp your breast and tease at the nipple there while you push against the desk so that your other is not neglected, the movement disturbs your line of vision so that you see the words he’d torturously typed under the picture sent from hell.
Don’t think that I forgot that you have a sweet tooth for our little Jimin, here, babygirl. When you got fucked against the walls in your office and I had you begging for your release, remember how I asked what you thought of him after he happened to walk in on us and then he ran away while I made you fucking scream so loud for me that he could still hear it even outside the building?
His tongue had been four inches deep inside you while he’d knelt on the floor for you to eat you out and your cheeks burn in the memory of how he’d had you a crying mess atop of him and in that moment, with your climax so close, he’d played you like his favorite toy in the truths that had been so easy to spew with the slew of his wet muscle that had the threads holding you together weak in their stitching in your need for the one operating your body to fix it all by bringing you to your end.
It had been purely an accident that you’d neglected to lock the door behind him when Jungkook had come to you with a dark glint in his eye that held only carnality in its iris after Jimin had kept you from him all day for meetings. The moment your boyfriend had snatched you away from your other boss, you’d fallen into his arms readily in the need for him that had tuned you like an instrument until you sung for him in your highest key.
Lost in each other, neither of you had heard the chink of the door that had borne your coupling to an observer who had stood with his cock hardening at the sight of you both in each other’s ecstasy until Jungkook had thrown you over your desk only for him to face Jimin, your CEO. The man’s eyes had bulged big as saucers when he’d been caught and Jungkook had only grinned as he eyed the tent in Jimin’s pants that broadcasted his obvious arousal. Your walls had constricted around the cock plunged deep inside you and you’d hit your third climax with a deadly snap of your boyfriend’s hips into you all while Jimin had ogled you before running as far as his legs would carry him.
Secure in the knowledge that you ardently cared about him after many confessions from you in the throes of passion and in the softer moments where Jungkook’s stoicism melted away in the wake of your praise and sweet utterances to him, he knew that you wanted to be with him and that you’d come to love him. It was why he had been so keen to tease you about Jimin in the following days upon realizing that you’d gotten off to being watched by the older man. If it meant your pleasure, he would gladly partake in anything and he’d professed as much to you on many nights (and mornings) in the tender aftercare he would treat you with, ever the doting yet adventurous lover that he was.
It was why you’d been able to let it slip when he’d had his long fingers plunged in you last night that no one could make you feel as good as he could, but that you were interested in seeing what Jimin’s smaller ones could do and how delicious his plush lips might feel on you. Jimin had always been sweet as honey to you and, in his lathering of that over you in your many moments together at work, you’d discovered that you wanted to get even more of a taste for him.
Never could you have expected that your boyfriend would do this and torture you with such hankering desire to be sated that it all but burned like a wildfire in your body, but you could hardly be expected to endure it in his absence.
You make a pained sound as you look at the picture that has damned your sex with even more taint to drip between your thighs and you cross your legs over each other in attempt to get some kind of friction. The attempt is fruitless and when there is nothing to relieve you, you squeeze at your breast and imagine that it is Jungkook who is doing so while the ridges of the table dig into your other and you fanaticize that it is Jimin’s ringed fingers that are palming at you as you cry out in desperation’s grip for either of them to come save you from the agony of their absence.
You moan at the cool, prickly sensation of your fingers on your skin, your nipple hardening amidst your digits that the cold air of the office has chilled as you seek more stimulation. Your boyfriend’s name falls like an icicle from your lips and when your voice pierces through the thin audio line that Jungkook had screenshared your computer to watch and hear you through Facetime with, he licks at his lips at your exposed cleavage as he watches you pop open another button as you titillate your tits and huff in frustration as you uncross your legs in some misguided effort to encourage friction that he knows you are incapable of granting yourself in your current situation by his own order.
He feasts his eyes on you as your breasts are shoved against one another, the ‘y’ shape of them bursting from your bra now as you cup one between the fingers of one hand and the other is butted into the table as you moan once more and call his name.
“Help me, Jungkook…” You breathe, your irises still sticking to the picture that has ruined you from wanting to do anything holy for the rest of the day, week or even month for that matter. With your head swimming in sin spurred by your boyfriend, all you can think about now is Jungkook, Jimin, Jungkook, Jimin, Jungkook, Jungkook and lastly, Jungkook.
It is your voice that cracks your boyfriend’s fixation on the way your breasts rise and fall with your labored breaths as pulls his eyes from the trenches of your tits before peering up to your lovely face that is marred with the aching affliction he knows wracks your core, his own cock twitching with interest as you repeat his name like a mantra in what little else your mind can internalize with how your sex must be sobbing for him right now.
Lust seeps through the rips and tears that have begun to open and enlarge your pores as it spreads through your fragile body in the trembles that have you shaking in your attempts to abstain from the slow destruction that has reduced the filling inside your core to wet, ruined fibers like a tainted toy. Without realizing what you’re doing, one hand skids over the wet patch of your essence that has stained your skirt, your palm aquaplaning through that to dive under your skirt and when you slot it between your legs and streamline it into your sopping core with the image of your boyfriend’s hand doing this to you in your mind while Jimin watches, you keen.
“Jungkook,” you try, “n-need you. Want you to fuck me and let Jimin see how good you make me feel, daddy. Your doll is about to tear herself apart because you won’t play with me…”
At that, there’s a low growl that booms through the speakers that amplify his voice that promises danger as it demands, “Get your little hand out of that wet ass pussy before daddy makes you regret even thinking about disobeying me,” his voice deepens as he orders, “Since you can’t keep your hands to yourself, get the fuck in my office. Now.”
Your core contracts at his dominance that is injected into each word and, per his command, your palms shoot away from you as if you were a puppet that he’d pulled on the strings of to whisk your hands away from where he knew you would damage yourself further.
You rise from your chair on legs that wobble both from Jungkook’s earlier ministrations and your own, your extract dyed onto your chair as you peer back and your cheeks burn at the damned deposit of it that has seeped through your panties and skirt. One knee quivers dangerously as your joints fight to hold you up through the numbness that your boyfriend had left in his wake and you have to plant a hand on your desk to hold yourself up while you steady yourself for the moment.
From the computer, your boyfriend glares darkly at you as he brings the window that his own computer records himself with to the forefront of your tabs, your attention being sucked like a black hole into him as he declares, “You’re going to sit in daddy’s lap and if you choose to be a bad girl and not listen to what daddy tells you, you’re going to go without cock for as long as I decide to withhold it from you. Understand?”
“I…I understand, sir.” You nod as you will the strength back in your legs despite his words that threaten to steal it yet again.
“Good. So submissive. Just how I like you, baby,” he groans as his irises settle on the gleaning mess painting across your thighs from the field of view the camera grants him, “You’ve got me so hard already. I bet that cunt must have drenched itself for me, huh? I guess we’ll find out in a little bit when I clean it all off of you with my tongue,” he has you whining at that as he brings a hand to his chin to rest his face against it as his eyes glint with lasciviousness as he makes a sound of consideration, “Or maybe I should use my fingers? My cock? Perhaps since you’ve been defiant and tried to please yourself, I won’t touch you at all, hm? How would you like that?”
You reach out for him even through the screen, panic coloring your tone as you implore with pleading eyes, “J-Jungkook, please…don’t. I’m ready for you. I might just break down in tears if you deny me again, so please-“
“You’ll get what I decide to give to you, babygirl. I gave you simple instructions and I expect that you follow through with them or that little cunt won’t be the only thing that cries for me tonight, doll. Now,” he states with no room for anything but obeyance, “get the fuck in here.”
Your sex quivers at that and you nod in affirmation as he ends the call once more, your weakened, numbed legs reducing you to a tottering mess of limbs as you emerge out of your office and amble closely to the walls, one hand held out against them to support you in the dangerous dalliance between remaining upright and falling to the floor in your shuddering ligaments that are entirely the work of Jungkook. You don’t have to walk far, but in your slow pace, the seconds stretch on and every step has your slick lewdly dripping down your legs much to your mortification that takes its form in the heat that rushes to your cheeks in the blood that manifests itself there.
You hobble along the glass walls that offer the view of the city that blinks to life below you in the lights that wink at you while tiny specks of moving bodies bedeck the pavement and once, long ago, when you’d been but a freshmen in college, you’d stood amongst them as you stared in awe at the same building you now work within in. Time had passed but in an instant and when you’d met Jungkook by happenstance one night in a bar with your friends and he’d been quick to pay your tab before sweeping you off your feet and walking with you through the city, you’d had no idea how much your life was about to change when you’d gone home to discover the small piece of parchment he’d slipped in your purse when you hadn’t been paying attention with as distracted by his beauty both in body and soul as you’d been while the two of you had chatted about everything and anything that kept the conversation flowing as easily as the waters in a forest brook. You’d not hesitated in calling him the day after and he’d been eager to see you again.
You’d gone on your first date with him that night and day after day, the two of you met again and again, for his company was as refreshing as the midnight air that caressed your skin after a long day of classes and before you’d known what had happened, it had been a year and it had only been after letting it out that you wanted an internship with a firm that he’d told you what exactly he did and what company he worked for.
Your jaw had hurt with how wide your maw had opened in disbelief and when he’d offered to bring you in as part of the team, you’d been all too happy to accept. You really had tried to keep things professional, but Jungkook had not a care in the world for appearances where you two were concerned and your escapades in the bedroom soon made it to the corporate sphere. You could not deny him no matter how hard you tried. It was as if your body had been made to fall into his skilled hands and you would gladly grant him anything if it meant his appeasement.
After all, you’d become putty in his palm while you had unknowingly wrapped him around your own fingers.
Perhaps that is why, when you finally reach the familiar double doors that permit entrance into Jungkook’s office, your hand quavers in the anticipation that has you in its clutches down to your very bones and there is not a moment of pause that stops you from opening them as your hand curls around the brass handle only for you to slip inside, the small clink of the knob resounding around you when you close it behind you.
Covering the oaken floor, a rug that you’d picked to decorate the room is lain over it. Threaded and crafted in India, it was one you’d seen in the marketplace he’d taken you to on one of his business trips to meet with a dealer that had contacted the firm in their interest to have the firm build a hotel there. You’d taken one look at the ornate swirls colored black as night and red as a rose in the way that the pattern had intertwined in rotating spirals and whirls and your boyfriend had not missed your small whisper about how nice it was while you’d both walked by it amongst the bustle of street life that filled the area packed with people and vendors energetically trying to sell their merchandise.
You hadn’t thought that he’d heard you, but he’d promptly asked if you liked it and you really hadn’t been expecting anything at all when you’d commented and that it would complement his office in his knowledge that black and red were your favorite colors. With a smile, he’d taken out his wallet (much to your surprise) and taken out a wad of cash that he’d easily passed to the unsuspecting vendor before buying the rug and turning to the group of onlooking teenage boys to pay them off in their efforts to carry it over to your lodgings on your way to the consultation with your dealer.
Later that night, he’d taken you to a very nice and very extravagant firelit, poolside meal at the Giardino by the the Jai Mahal Palace in Jaipur that you both were sharing a room in. He’d had you giggling every other minute between the fond touches that he’d brush along your cheek or stroke your clothed thigh with from atop the high-necked silk dress that he’d bought for you and after, you’d both had taken a stroll by the surrounding greenery and woodlands beyond the pool. The stars had gleamed in your eyes when you’d peered lovingly at him and not for the first time, he’d been struck with that pang in his chest whenever you looked at him like that while you both had reminisced about how you’d met in that dingy little bar about a year and a half prior.
When you’d both kissed under the cover of the trees, that feeling that flew around his ribcage had fluttered when you’d adoringly pecked the mole beneath his lower lip as you’d earnestly and heartfeltly thanked him for everything that he’d done for you. When you’d confessed that he’d quickly become the light of your life, he’d tenderly pressed his forehead to your own as he’d pressed his lips to yours once more, the word that had fled him for so long that foretold his own emotions finally surfacing through the depths of his mind.
He’d declared then and there that he loved you with sincerity beating as fast as his heart through every word. He’d been quick to gently thumb away at the teardrops of joy that spilled from your eyes when he’d finally said it while you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck as you reciprocated the sentiment in a breathless voice that held so much affection for him that it made his chest swell with the emotion and in that moment, he’d decided that he wanted to give you something that-when you looked upon it and felt its weight on your skin- you would be reminded of who loved you that intricately and implicitly.
He’d held you close with only the moon’s eye presiding over you both while he’d cutely nudged at your nose, his fingers interlacing with your own that you readily accepted and when he’d pulled away, a new resolve had settled in his pupils as he tugged you forward and soon you found yourself being ushered through the busy, bustling streets of Jaipur.
Bordering on the desert’s boundary, it was a city that you are sure could have been taken right out of a picture in the pinkened sandstone that every store and building had been crafted out of. Ancient structures erected in times past still stood strong among the newer and more modern creations of contemporary origin and the contrast boasted of a rich diversity that had you wanting to learn more about it despite the books that your boyfriend had gotten for you in a homely little bookstore earlier in the day. Youths had run through the streets with vivaciousness tailing them like the dogs that happily ran with them while the old had shuffled along and chattered about their daily lives and it was a place that was dyed in the warm color its inhabitants adored it with.
Distracted as you had been with the scenery that painted itself into your memory with artful amalgamation of colors, you’d not noticed where he was intent on leading until he was opening a door for you and coaxing you inside with a reassuring nod despite your confused quirk of your chin, you let him guide you inside only to have you gasping under the fluorescently lit store that was notoriously known throughout India for its high class bijouterie called Tanishq.
Though you had never heard of it, Jungkook himself had been told about the company from a contact in Mumbai that he’d visited with you in their interest in building an additional wing within the library and, upon seeing the way that you both had been inseparable in the tendency to be joined at the hip at all times, he’d suggested the store to your boyfriend after you’d gotten up from your place on his lap to go explore the books that had been crammed on the bookshelf while they’d both watched you curiously tap your fingers against the aged spines of the books. The elderly man had seen fondness for each other well up in your gazes as whenever you and your boyfriend looked upon each other and, after telling Jungkook he only saw that kind of amity in a newlywed couple, he mentioned the name of the store that only the wealthiest of grooms would purchase jewelry for their beloveds from.
It had purely been by chance that you both had happened to walk by the same store the gray bearded man had spoken to him of and amongst seeing the way your eyes had widened bigger than the largest diamond in the store, Jungkook had decided you were priceless in how cute you were as he chuckled and told you to pick out anything you desired.
You’d crinkled your nose in confusion, your brows creasing as you’d told him that you were perfectly happy to just have the treasure of him, but he’d only brought his lips to your forehead as he’d mused, “You know, you really are so adorable, Y/N. I want to spoil you. Won’t you let me do that for you, baby? I want to decorate you in my mark so that everyone will know who your heart belongs to. Please allow me to do so, petal.”
You really had not been able to resist the big bunny eyes as he’d coaxed you forward and so he’d sat down on the leather loveseat in the corner of the room, the business-suited employees quietly looking on as you moved about.
Jewels of every size, color and cut were decoratively placed within rectangular glass casings along either side of the first floor of the trendy store swathed in white walls and artificial illumination. Set within the walls themselves were square nooks that housed singular pieces separated from the rest that were couched on plush satin. The entire place was full of glittering jewelry that beckoned the eye, but your boyfriend had been noticed the way that you bit at your cheek as you passed them all by in your indecision since the collection of necklaces, rings, earrings and bracelets were all so pretty to you.
When he’d risen to inquire about any other pieces, the store representative had seemed reluctant at first to give such critical information, but it had taken only a moment for the older woman to retreat to the back to retrieve one of the store’s most coveted pieces that only respected customers could have the privilege of even looking at after Jungkook had, without your notice, stuck his hand into the inside pocket of his Gucci suit jacket to pull out a thick wad of American bills and rupees, his Rolex watch revealing itself from under the sleeve of the black outer garment whilst he did.
When the woman had returned with a black lacquered box in her hand to set it down on the four-legged glass table and told Jungkook that the necklace inside was one of the store’s most prized possessions, his interest had been piqued as he called you over and, with a questioning expression, he’d chuckled as he walked over to you to gently ease you forward with a hand on the small of your back you’d come to before the little chest.
He’d been gentle as he’d urged you to open it as you stared at the box, ever the patient man that he was as he waited for you to finally lift the lid of the chest. You hadn’t known what to expect when you heeded him, but it certainly hadn’t been the article of jewelry inside as it immediately drew your eye as your breath hitched at the sight of it.
Sat on bed of velvet, you’d grown fond of it the second you saw it in the way it glinted with each sliver of light that seemed to be drawn toward it. It commanded attention in the way it glittered and glistened in the rays of light that bounced off it and innocently, your fingers hovered over it yet never touched for the fear that you might destroy something so fragile and delicate.
You hadn’t trusted yourself with it, but Jungkook had been all too eager to lift it up and off its resting place to lay it over your neck before clasping it around you and telling you to look in the mirror at yourself.
Beset in white gold, diamonds grew within two thin metal vines that trailed and wrapped around your neck amidst buddings of flowers that intermingled along each side, the pistils of gems at their centers made of rubies. Upon the dip of the necklace along the notch between your clavicles, a slightly smaller floweret sprouted a larger one beneath it and connected to that was a falling petal that dangled prettily just under your collarbones.
“You look beautiful in that, my precious flower. Its charm becomes you well, pretty girl.”
Upon his praise, you’d preened as you’d thanked him for the adulation and before you could do anything else, he’d slid his black card out of black snakeskin Gucci wallet before telling the associate to simply ‘run it through’ with no hesitation as he drew his lip between his teeth as he watched you lightly skim your fingers over the ornate piece of jewelry.
The representative had informed him when she’d brought it out that it was a grand total of $37,713 and yet, he would gladly give that small bit of money to bejewel you so that you could shine like the gem that you were to him. You never asked for any material things nor expected them of him like other women once did in your poorer upbringing that had left you destitute and in debt when you’d met him and despite all of that, you never requested aid from him and it was one of the reasons why he enjoyed lavishing such gifts on you in addition to paying off your school of his own volition even amidst your efforts to tell him that he didn’t have to (and yet he always wanted to wherever you were concerned).
He’d assured you once more how lovely you looked, your cheeks turning red as the rubies you wore as he came behind you to plant his mouth under the clasp of the necklace along your nape, one of your hands reaching back to intermingle with his own as you’d quietly let him know how grateful you were and that he really didn’t have to expend so much effort to show you how he felt about you to which he wrapped his arms around you to seep the waters of his truth into you as he’d answered, “ Nonsense, petal. I want you to accept this so that whenever anyone looks at you and asks who got this for you,” he’d let his lips wander along flowing foliage of gems and gold as he’d soiled you with his kisses, “you will tell them that your boyfriend, whom you love so much, was the one who got it for you,” his mouth had lifted as he’d inched close to the shell of your ear as you shivered in the hot breath that prickled at your skin, “When you’re torn away from me because of work or anything else, I want you to remember that you twined yourself around me like the vines on this necklace and that I fell for you as surely as the petal that descends from it.”
You’d been helpless to whimper at that as you’d turned your head to the side to meet his waiting lips that had been all too willing to receive you as you smiled into the kiss.
Later that night, you’d been sure to show to him just how thankful you really were as you’d ridden him well through the midnight hours only to wake him with your lips wrapped around the very cock that, even in sleep, he’d ground against your ass in his voracious appetite that he liked only to consume from you.
When you’d found yourself sitting atop him, his back lain against the headboard as you’d fucked yourself over his cock while the sun had begun to peek over the horizon, the jewels had glimmered enthusiastically amidst the riled rotations of your hips over him. Seven months later, the same brilliant bijou envelops your throat as you look down to the floor submissively like your boyfriend had taught you to do upon entry into his much larger and grander office, your fingers linking together behind your back just as he’d always instructed you to do.
Two flat screen televisions are perched atop onyx oak media stands on either side of the room, their screens set alight with virtual fireplaces that blaze within them. Between them and atop the rug Jungkook had had brought over from India is a mid-sized sofa the color of mahogany and flanking that are two lounge chairs of colored like cream and in front of them is a square glass table. Jungkook had made sure to test the durability of just about every piece in the room, for he’d fucked you over just about everything as far as the eye could see and had done so too many times for you to even be able to count anymore in his constant craving for you.
There are wooden blinds that span the length of every glass wall, each of them opened to allow the moon’s silvery beams to filter through them amidst the lamps positioned precariously around each corner of the room, the lampshades that top them covering the sides of the room in golden ambient incandescence that softly lights the edges of the office up in a yellowed hue that reminds you of much smaller rays of sunlight despite the moonlight that coalesces around the central figure in the room amid your boyfriend’s command that calls it forth upon him.
Presently, Jungkook is sat in an expensive and executive leather chair the color of soil, his legs thrown atop the wenge wood desk that was crafted and imported all the way from Africa in the rare material cut from the tough bark of the legume tree native to the country.
You see none of this and fidget uncomfortably in the steadily oozing taint of your arousal that continues to percolate down your thigh while a voice low as a baritone emits itself from the iPhone lain over Jungkook’s desk as your boyfriend eyes you with interest, a smirk twitching at the side of one lip as he takes in your debauched state while the caller on his phone fills the room with his thick voice in the midst of the business call that he’d been made to make.
It’s not the first time he’s had you come to him in the middle of a phone call, but you have to fight the whimper that wants to wheedle its way out of you at the memory of how he’d called you in here but a month ago to suck him off while he’d been in the middle of one with a client, his need for you too strong for him to lay to bed when he’d watched you hungrily gorge yourself on a banana from your seat in your office.
“Jungkook, I need answers as we near the end of the fiscal year. You had many opportunities for appraisals this quarter and those preceding it and as such, I want to know where our dealers and contributors were most dense and what their appeal was so that we can draft out potential areas of interest to focus our fixed assets on. Surely in all of the trips and consultations you had for the last several months, you already have a response on the tip of your tongue.”
“On the tip of your tongue,” your boyfriend makes a sound of thought as he taps his finger against his chin while he devours you with his roving gaze, “Perhaps I do, co-founder Taehyung. Speaking of evaluations,” your boyfriend’s voice darkens, “my secretary has been quite valuable to us.”
At the mention of you, your heart does a flip in your chest as you fix your eyes somewhere between your feet because you know if you dare to look anywhere else, you might just become a fucking puddle of limbs on the floor.
“Come here, Y/N,” Jungkook orders, your back straightening straight as an arrow at the instructions.
You don’t know how you manage it with your legs as feeble as they are, but you move forward unsteadily despite the threatening numbness that leaves your ligaments dangerously close to giving out on you in the strength that has been stolen from them by your boyfriend.
The clack of your high heels reverberates along the walls and is loud amidst the blood that pounds in your ears, your heart racing amidst the heavy, hot attention that is as warm as the sun’s rays over your bared skin as your boyfriend looks on at you.
You move as drawn to him like he’s some kind of magnet and in the attraction for him that pulls away any rational thought, you find yourself standing before him, his hands rising to swaddle your hips in his hold. His touch, even through the black button down linen shirt that you wear, is warm and has you melting the instant his palms leisurely drag themselves up and down your sides as you relish in his attention.
Taehyung continues with an impressed snort, “Jungkook, Jimin has informed me all about your little secretary many times over,” your boyfriend’s digits curl inward to sink into your soft skin at that as he informs, “This is not the time to be rambling about how she’s snatched both your heart and cock in each of her hands. I want facts, not sentiments.”
“Oh, but that’s the thing, Tae,” Jungkook lilts, his grip on you tightening as he ushers you between his legs that he spreads for you, your own bones liquifying like goo under his strength that he’s spent many hours in the gym working to acquire as you make a sound of startlement when he suddenly turns you around and whisks you into his lap, your ass sitting down upon the hardened bulge that readily receives you as Jungkook chuckles in the mess of your taint that darkens the fabric of his pants where your core is perched over him to amusedly offer, “ She has erected more than just my cock, however many times it has been, I’ll have you know. She was the one who orchestrated dealings with, hm,” one hand lifts from your side so that long fingers can coax your chin up and to the side so that the two of you lock eyes, “how many dealers this year did you have coming for me, darling? Tell Taehyung here. I think he’s underestimating how useful you’ve been to me.”
“S-sixty nine,” you blurt as the hand on your chin descends down the ‘v’ of your shirt, his deft digits popping open the small buttons without pause and the plummet you’d taken in his dilating irises that promise nothing but sin, you have to climb along their edges only to realize what you’d said and quickly you stammer as you amend, “I-I mean, 669 contractors, T-Taehyung. I helped to orchestrate that number of dealers that were taken by the company.”
“Everything alright, baby?” Your boyfriend husks into the shell of your ear, his teeth taking one lobe between them as the last button is undone, your shirt opening to reveal your bra-clad breasts as his hand flows freer than water in the way he draggles it along your abdomen until he possessively wraps it around one breast to give you a harsh squeeze, your head falling back against his shoulder as you bite at your lip to keep quiet while your skin pebbles at his touch.
“Jungkook,” you breathe, “do something. Please.”
“Mmm, you’ve been so good for me, so good for the company, petal,” He emphasizes as he trails his lips down the column of your neck and you turn into the featherlight touch of his lips and between them, he utters,” Don’t you agree, Jimin?”
Your eyes widen at the name despite the heat that fertilizes your arousal deep in your core, but you don’t dare look away from Jungkook without permission. Your boyfriend nips at the tender spot along the base of your neck where the garden of jewels wrap themselves around you that he’d bought for you months prior and it is only when the hand on your breast slowly streamlines downwards to slip under the waistline of your skirt to slide between your sopping folds that he hisses into your ear, “Fuck, baby, are you that turned on in the knowledge that he just watched me do all this to you?” You moan, but it is trapped behind the hand he covers your mouth with while his fingers prod at your hole, your entrance begging him to find himself in your wet warmth in the way you clench around nothing as he rasps, “Look at him, babygirl. I want you to see what you’ve done to him because you just can’t resist me, can you? Go on, doll. Make him fall to his knees for you just like I did.”
With your head still laid against his shoulder as he lavishes you in the brush of his soft lips against you, you shift your visage away from your boyfriend with some effort, your irises wandering from Jungkook’s deadly distending ones that are colored black as a shark’s in the predatory way he looms above you to those of the only other man in the room that might just be a puppy in disguise with the way his light brown irises implore your own for some much wanted attention.
Dressed in a plain black suit that contrasts his unique beauty, your CEO wears a tie over a white dress shirt that you wish you could see through to gage which of the pair of them is more muscled between the two of them. His hair is carefully styled in its parting that leaves his entire forehead naked to your sight amidst the thick tufts that arch up along the left while the right side is pressed loosely along his scalp, his sideburns extending to the middle of his ear that is ringed with three hoops along each side. Perfectly sculpted brows frame almond eyes that beg for yours and lips that rival your own boyfriend’s decorate him below a straight nose. His lower lip is slightly thicker than his upper one and they are quite shapely around the thumb he currently gnaws at much like a chew toy, his tongue longer than a dog’s as it curves under the digit while he waits for his master to give him notice.
Jimin is entirely lost in the way that his other hand is presently wrapped around the tie as if it is a leash that keeps his hand from going lower so that he can rut into himself like you know he must want to given the white of his knuckles that mar his skin as he clutches at the thin piece of silk. His hand appears so much smaller around the article of clothing, his fingers so much shorter than your boyfriend’s that clamp down over your mouth as one finger pushes into your hole, your walls clenching around him and the whimper that wants to escape never makes it out of you and when you see Jimin’s digits begin to tremble with how tightly he holds onto the tie, you wonder what they might be able to do to you despite their littler size.
“That’s it, babygirl,” Jungkook tells you as he runs his tongue at the sternocleidomastoid muscle cording the base of your neck, your walls contracting within you as he drives his digit back and forth with his middle finger while using the others to run along your folds as he does, your face contorting into one of pleasure as your hips buck atop him all while Jimin bites hard onto his own thumb as he watches the both of you and it is then that Jungkook mutters lowly, “Keep doing that. He’s getting hard for you, petal. He could never get as hard for you as I do, but he’s getting there, doll,” your boyfriend nibbles at your now exposed shoulder to stifle the groan when you press your ass more insistently on him as he pulls your shirt off of you to give a sotto voce demand, “Use my fingers and get yourself off with them, pretty girl. Fuck yourself on me and let him watch you fall apart on top of me, Y/N.”
You don’t need to be told twice and, following his instruction, you plant both hands in front of you with each on one of this thighs, your fingers curling inward to pitch themselves into the grounds of built up muscle that compose his legs to lift yourself up only to sink back onto his digit that easily goes all the way down to his knuckle in how deep his digit is plunged inside you. Your whine is captured by the hand he replaces with his lips in a passionate kiss that draws all your attention back to him before they flutter closed, his mouth overtaking your own as he glides his tongue along your lower lip before twisting around your own as he feasts himself on you.
Taehyung’s voice cuts through it all as he huffs, “I don’t know what is going on over there, but someone better give me some answers,” there’s a pause and the sound of fabric rustling when your moan writhes itself between Jungkook’s lips that are held over your mouth when a second finger is added and he deliciously curls his fingers in a come-hither motion as your hips jerk atop him and when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth only to release your mouth and leave you in a dizzied daze amid the loss of oxygen he’d taken from you, his lips lower to graze the nape of your neck as your head falls forward amidst the sudden jerk of your hips over him as Taehyung clears his throat, “Jimin, is what Jungkook said what you know to be true? If so, have you any idea where most of her accounts were set up so that we can look into stimulating more in those areas?”
“So sensitive for me,” your boyfriend mouths at your skin, this thumb brushing your clit to have you stutter your hips as he works you open on top of him,” So fucking wet, too. Come on, babygirl. Show them how bad you want me. Make them wish they could fuck you every night like I do,” he husks as he impels his fingers back and forth inside you, your pussy clinging to his fingers in the lewd squelches that permeate the room and all the while, Jimin’s visage is tugged to the sight of your boyfriend’s digits disappear within your cunt as his own member begins to weep precum in want of you.
“S-she um, well…yes, correct,” he flounders as words scramble in every direction within his mind as he observes a sex film right in front of him that is infinitely more arousing than any porno he has seen before in how receptively submissive you are to Jungkook who has you looking fucked out when he’s only just begun his ministrations on you.
You, who has been in Jimin’s dreams and thoughts during many nights when he has been alone in bed with his only company being the pillows he’d rut into for some semblance of relief when his hand would become too tired to bear the burden of lust that you had inspired without even knowing.
Helpless as an abandoned puppy, he can only look on as a rumble razes from between his lips s you raise yourself off of Jungkook’s digits only to fall back down on them as he scissors them into you with precision, each finger stretching you out around him as your own hands tighten their hold on his thick thighs amidst the whimper that is heaved from your lips when his thumb flicks at the bundle of nerves foresting your core to have your jerk atop his rock hard member that strains against the confines of his trousers.
The fingers on your side bite into your skin as he constringes them around you while he leans forward to growl, “Watch it, baby. I never you said you could ride me yet,” you whine only for him to connect his lips to the spot just under your ear to suck the skin into his mouth and that has you keen as your hips careen into the fingers that have deliciously started to thrust into you as he hisses, “You want daddy’s dick, huh? Do you think you can fucking take it, doll? I’m not so sure… I think,” his thumb pressurizes itself into your clit in slight palpitations that are too calculated and measured against the rapid beats of your heart while a third finger is inserted and propelled inside to have you cry out as his tone bottoms in pitch amidst the way your back bows against him, “I think that since you were two minutes fucking late in getting here, you need to be taught a lesson about coming on time. Jimin, come here.”
“You guys act like such children over your toys, fuck. I just wanted to have a normal business call for once,” Taehyung’s voice drones on, but there’s a slight tick to it that suggests he might not be as irritated as he wants to sound while he grumbles, “I don’t want to be privy to this. I’ve only heard Jimin’s voice get like that once when I took him to a strip club and I’m not going to stick around for your little threesome or whatever the fuck you all are about to do.”
“Oh, but you will, co-founder Taehyung,” Jungkook’s hand rises from your hip to unclasp your bra and when he divests it off of your writhing body, it falls with a thump to the floor with the last of Jimin’s self-restraint, his fingernails digging into the silk of his tie to leave crescent moons in his palms as he rises to lick at his lips in the way that your tits sway temptingly to the motions as you jounce atop your boyfriend while Jungkook smirks, his lips hovering only an inch from your own shoulder as his irises flash darkly at Jimin when he asserts, “Jimin here has some nice, big lips and he likes to put them to use and run his mouth around me,” Jimin’s eyes widen as his teeth come down on his cheek while Jungkook’s smile lethally widens, “He’s told me all about what you did the night you came to the office in the supply closet with one of my receptionists and how you told him that you let a particular name slip from your mouth when you had your cock in someone else’s.”
Jimin’s back goes rigid as a rod and he stops midway in his journey toward you, the filaments of his tie near their tearing point with how tightly his hand is wound around it as his cheeks puff out while he peers pleadingly at Jungkook who simply ticks his head to the side, one brow arching in amusement as he asks, “What was the name again, Jimin? I’ll let you touch her if you tell Taehyung the truth. I know you must want to see how responsive she is under your fingers, yeah?”
“For fuck’s sake, Jimin, do not listen to Jungkook-“
“Y/N,” he softly says despite the rough hold on his tie in its stitching that has started to tear. With Jungkook’s heavy ultimatum resting on his shoulders, it really hadn’t been possible for him to crumble under its dense weight with the sweet serendipity of you that was so near that he could almost taste it.
Your face lifts at the mention of yourself, your eyes meeting Jimin’s and in them there is surprise that is flecked by lifted brows, but it is soon smeared away by the desire that blotches them as Jungkook chooses that moment to let his tongue peek from between his lips only to trail it along the nape of your neck before closing his mouth around you to siphon you once again between them, your neck gradually becoming a woodland of reddened petals that rival the color of a rose in the passion that had been emitted in the making of them.
Appeased, Jungkook hums, “Mmm, good boy. I knew you would listen to me. Come and claim your reward,” he husks as he circles your clit with his thumb the way he knows you like it, your end rapidly nearing as your boyfriend shoves all three fingers into you without pause at the same time that you frenziedly meet his ministrations in faltering jolts of your hips over him and when you watch Jimin tortuously pull his lower lip under his perfect buck teeth as he moves mercifully closer, you moan out when Jungkook’s middle finger prods at the cluster of nerves deep within you as your boyfriend groans at the way your slick drips down his fingers with how much taint you produce in want of them both before he goads, “Go on, Jimin. Touch her. Her tits were made by a fucking succubus. God, they’re so good for a nice cocksleeve aren’t they, babygirl?”
“Yes, Jungkook…yes,” you breathlessly reply as your nipples harden in the cold air that prickles at your exposed skin, a dangerous jab of his fingers deep into you drawing a guttural sound deep from the recesses of your body that he expertly forges you with as his thumb swirls over your clit to leave you panting.
In your labored suspirations, your chest heaves back and forth, your tits being pushed out and in to have Jimin’s fingers shuddering from their prison of their cage in his tie while his other hand mindlessly reaches for you.
As he nears you, Jungkook speeds up his ministrations inside you, his fingers curving dangerously to rub against your walls that clench around him and it isn’t until Jimin hovers awkwardly by the side of Jungkook’s desk that he notices the way that Jungkook drags one hand away from your side to snake it around your abdomen and pull you flush against his chest as he clucks his tongue, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Jimin… did I tell you when you were allowed to touch her? Did you think you could just come over here and have what is mine without my permission?”
Jimin’s hand shoots away from you as if he’d been burned as he shamefully casts his visage to the floor as he speaks haltingly,” I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…she’s just pretty as a doll on your lap, Jungkook. Please, let me have her. I’ll be good to her, I promise.”
“Did you both forget that I’m still here? Christ. I can’t believe you told Jungkook that I said the name of his damn girlfriend while I was getting sucked off, Jimin,” there’s a sound of a belt buckle opening as his voice hardens, “I guess I can’t really help it. You do have quite an eye for women, Jungkook. None more so than this one, though,” You feel the grin against you amidst the skin that is currently being suctioned between his lips as he decorates you in another necklace that blossoms in blots of purple and red under the one made of gems gleaming enticingly around you as Jungkook suddenly brings your ass down onto his clothed, yet colossal cock in time with digits that pierce you all the way to your g-spot, your eyes rolling back with your head that lands on your boyfriend’s shoulder as Taehyung cavils, “It’s her fault for getting my dick wet whenever I come to visit the office. You should thank whatever god is up there that you found such a loyal little girl to give herself to you," You preen at the words despite the fingers currently driving themselves ferociously into you as Jungkook agrees with a nod while he rambles, "I will say I tried making a move on her when I last came to the office and when she refused and instead went to your office, that's how I found myself in that supply closet."
“So I heard from Jimin, Taehyung,” Jungkook muses as while he helixes his digits inside you without fail, the arm that still is enclosed around you pulling you back into him so that there is no space that remains between you as he hotly intones into the shell of your ear loud enough for them all to hear, “I fucked her maybe seven different ways that night because of that. She just couldn’t get enough of me, could she, babygirl?”
You agree as you hoist yourself up only to heft yourself back down with a broken moan as Jimin turns to the table in the absence of you to rut himself into it, his face contorted into one of concentration as he tries to think about anything but how your pussy would feel around the cock that cries wantonly for you.
“Look at him, baby,” Jungkook urges as he swirls his thumb over your clit, “he can’t even contain himself for you anymore,” he speaks up, “He just can’t take it, can he?”
“Can…can take it, Jungkook, please. I need to feel her. Need to touch her,” Jimin manages despite the obstinate grooves of the desk that scuff and scrape his member rigidly as he tries, and fails, to simulate some semblance of relief without you as he attempts to say, “You’re t-torturing m-me. Let me do something to her, anything to her.”
“Do you think you should be allowed to touch what isn’t yours so freely? She’s mine,” Jungkook growls as he curves his digits purposefully inside you, his own cock throbbing at the way your juices have now coated his entire hand whilst your walls flutter tellingly around him as you submerge yourself on his digits with thighs that now tremble with your rigorous efforts, a moan slewing from your lips as he slides his fingers so deep inside that they press skillfully at the bundle of nerves that has your back arching against him while he possessively wraps his hand around your throat that had been on your abdomen to keep you in place and when his thumb twiddles itself around your clit, that’s when you cry out for your boyfriend who then smirks knowingly, his eyes flitting from you only to sear into Jimin's as he arches a brow to ask, “She’s almost there, isn’t she, Jimin? How badly do you want to touch her? Beg for me and maybe I’ll let you have a small piece of her before she fucking gets stuffed full of my cock for the fourth time today.”
Your end is so close, yet so far away. Like the waters of an ocean, it washes over your feet, but the waves of pleasure in the distance that roll deeper in the seas of rapture are too far away from you to reach as you sink into the sands that are grained with Jungkook’s control over you to keep you from moving toward it. With your end so close, you hardly even process what is said when Taehyung talks under his breath that has quickly become erratic in your sounds of ecstasy that have wrapped around his cock as he jacks himself off on the other end of the line.
“Tell him what he wants to know, Jimin,” Taehyung advises, his voice strained through the strenuousness of his own indecent actions as he wishes it was your cunt that his cock was enveloped in while his voice deepens, “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“You’ll both wait until I decide when Jimin can play with what belongs to me,” Jungkook professes, his fingers speeding themselves inside you and when you whimper at the way he slides his digits deliciously inside you at the same time his thumb strikes your clit, it’s enough to have you buck your hips as he tightens his fingers around your throat in warning while he orders, “You’re not allowed to cum yet, babygirl. Don’t even think about it. I want to put my cock in you so you can warm me up for later, yeah?”
“Jungkook, I can’t hold on for much longer,” you confess through elusive breaths as his fingers constrict around your throat for daring to admit that.
“You’ll hold on as long as I tell you to, baby. That cunt won’t get off on its own, will it?” He husks whilst his fingers deftly stroke your walls in curled motions as his thumb falls from your clit to ream the outer lips of your sex and you sob out at the loss of stimulation to the nerves crowning your womanhood as he watches your expression change in a myriad of different countenances before you settle on submission and nod knowing that you won’t get what you want if you disobey him after many lessons imparted to you in the bedroom.
“That’s right, baby. Obey,” Jungkook groans as you clench around him and it’s when he hears Jimin call for him in a hushed tone that a devious idea unfurls itself in his mind and he doesn’t have to look over at Jimin to see that the older man is bent over the desk and is mindlessly grinding into it to resolving none of the tension that coils around his hardened member.
This little game was far too fun to end so soon and so Jungkook chuckles darkly as you stretch yourself open atop him, his digits tracing the sensitive skin around your hole despite the three fingers that are knuckles deep within you as he starts, “As for you, Jimin, I believe I said you’d need to beg for her if you want her that badly You do want her, don’t you?.”
The older man stops his movements at the referral of his name, his eyes glinting pleadingly as he turns his head to lay his cheek on the table, the bones of his hands pressing taut against the whitened skin he grips the sides of the desk with as he wracks his brain for anything resembling a coherent sentence and it is the sight of you with your eyes closed and mouth parted as you rebound up and down on your boyfriend’s fingers that has his own quiver in the wish to feel you himself as he swallows to comply, “I-I want her so bad, Jungkook. I’ll…I’ll do anything you want, but please, let me touch her.”
Jungkook seems to be satisfied with that as he nods, his irises blazing in acknowledgement as he demands, “Kneel for her, Jimin. That’s what all men eventually do for her and this precious little cunt.”
The words are barely out of his mouth before Jimin falls before you, his hands closing around Jungkook’s knees just inches below your own that squeeze your boyfriend’s thighs in a vise-like grip.
Need saturates his eyes and shaking fingers as he waits patiently for Jungkook to give him the green light and like this, the view he is granted might just make him cum untouched in the way that Jungkook sinfully shears his fingers in your cunt as you come down on them in frantic sweeps of your hips, his hand entirely drizzled in your essence that glistens as if to tempt him in the soft light of the room.
He doesn’t realize that he’s salivating like a fucking dog until Jungkook gruffly commands into the shell of your ear that he flicks his tongue against, “Open your eyes, babygirl. I want you to see how fucking desperate you’ve made our little Jiminie. God, you’re fucking hot, doll. I’m so damn hard for you right now.”
Not wanting to disobey him, you let your lids flutter open, your breath catching at the sight of the pretty boy that is on his knees for you. His once perfectly styled hair is tousled after he runs his hand through it, his tongue darting between his plush lips as he stares at you like you’re food he wants very badly to eat.
And how you’ve wanted him to do just that for weeks, though you know deep down that Jungkook would always take you to the seventh heaven without fail.
Your hips stutter yet again at the visage of him when you lift your head, one of your hands lifting so that your fingers can trace the outline of his shapely mouth. You are slow to make contact with his lips that are softer than a feather yet rival those of the Bratz dolls you’d play with when you were younger. He relishes in your touch and even leans into you as if to grant silent permission for more and when you run your digit down his lower lip to watch it snap back up against his teeth, you moan at the thought of what it would feel like if he-
Your hand is suddenly pulled away as your boyfriend’s long fingers enclose themselves around your wrist as he brings your arm back to marionette it behind you and when he brings your palm down on his weeping member that sobs for you even through his trousers, that’s when you suck in a breath whilst the fingers on your throat release you to grasp your chin so that your head is turned to the side, your visage instantly being pushed back to him as he gives a devastating blow to your pussy through the twist of his fingers in your cunt to have you whine out when he jams them inside you.
“I believe I taught you to wait for my approval before I let you do anything, didn’t I, babygirl?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disobey,” you try even knowing that the last time he went unheeded by you, he’d left you on your bed to finish yourself off with your own hand.
“And yet you did, baby. Do you think you deserve to cum now?” your boyfriend inquires, his fingers slackening inside you to have you whimper when he extricates them from you only to bring all three digits to his lips, his tongue laving at them as his eyes scintillate with fervor to have you clench around nothing and Jimin watches the way your essence oozes out of you without Jungkook to clog you now as your boyfriend’s irises simmer hotly into yours that he trails down your body and everywhere his gaze goes, the ire of fire is stoked in every crevice of you as he decides, “I think you need to be reminded of who really owns you. Take my cock out, babygirl. Do not make daddy wait.”
With your back still flush against his chest, it’s hard to fight past the haze of arousal that clouds your mind. Your boyfriend knows this just by peering down at you and, taking pity on your afflicted state, he helps guide your hand to where his zipper is. With how unbelievably large he is, you don’t need to search for his cock in its obscene girth and lewd length. You don’t have to work at it his zipper for long, for it opens to you easily and really, you can’t think too much on the fact that he’s not wearing any boxers underneath his pants as his cock springs free and your fingers slip along it until you hold him in your palm.
He’s heavy in your hand with the blood that engorges his member and your walls contract at the way his veins all but bulge out against your hand as you drag your hand down all the way to his base before gripping him to earn a groan from him that you swallow down your own throat when he draws you forward into a French kiss that leaves your tongue numb in how roughly he sucks it into his mouth.
When you’re on the verge of losing what little breath you had left and you squeeze his cock, that’s when he releases you to rasp, “Good girl. Now, sit the fuck down on me and ride me.”
Needing no further prompting, you raise yourself off him to line yourself up with him and when you sink down onto him and welcome him into your wet warmth, your head falls forward in the lack of ability to hold it up anymore, your mouth dropping open with the way that he fills you so wholly and completely that there is no room to think of anything but him.
It is a lucky thing indeed that you have a birth control insert so that you don’t have to worry about anything in times such as these and it is pure bliss that pangs through every corner of your body the moment he finds his home inside you and you can only repeat his name with how deep his cock is lodged inside you.
Below you, Jimin raptly observes how your boyfriend disappears inside you as you start to grind atop him, your hips eagerly canting him as he sits back and enjoys the show.
“P-please, Jungkook, can I?” He questions, not caring at this point what Jungkook will let him do so as long as he can do something.
“You know, you do have some really pretty lips, Jimin,” Jungkook considers, his irises burning into Jimin’s own in the view of him he’s given with your head down between your shoulders as you unthinkingly sweep your hips over him to have him grunt, “How about you kiss her with them?”
A shaky breath trembles as it is dislodged from between Jimin’s lips, your eyes irises drawn to the source of the sound as you gaze into eyes that widen bigger than a Boston Terrier’s and you don’t have time to process what has just been said before a familiar hand wraps around the underside of your breast, a groan falling from your boyfriend’s mouth at how supple your skin is between his fingers as he holds one breast as if to offer it to the older man, your nipple hardening as his digits that have been chilled by the cool air cause goosebumps to raise themselves up over you.
You watch as Jimin’s sight becomes entirely transfixed by the way that Jungkook’s hand completely closes around your tit whilst you continue to gyrate your hips atop him, a wantful moan releasing itself from your throat when Jungkook leans forward to take the clasp of the necklace he bought for you between his teeth as he pulls it back with him so that you follow him when he seats himself against the backrest of the chair once more.
In the movement, your breasts sway while you pirouette your hips around Jungkook and, as if to entice Jimin, your boyfriend swirls his thumb around your areola that puckers itself out around the cold digit that draws itself around it.
Jimin makes a sound akin to a wail and it’s what has Jungkook smirking wolfishly behind you as he taunts, “I bet it must be so difficult to just sit there and watch her get fucked so well, isn’t it? You want her, Jimin? Kiss her.”
You observe the way that Jimin’s tongue swipes itself along his lips and the blonde haired man before you does not need to be told again before he slants himself forward and, all in one movement, opens his mouth to take the breast your boyfriend holds inside it.
“Ah…please,” you whimper as his warm lips heat your cooled skin and your boyfriend chooses that moment to constringe his fingers around your breast to the same time that Jimin’s agile tongue flicks along the underside of your tit. His mouth and tongue are smaller than your boyfriend’s, but you’re beyond the point of caring as both men make it their motive to please you.
When your boyfriend plants hot kisses to the tip of your spine right under your nape and below the fastener of the necklace he’d just been tugging on, Jimin seems to notice and suddenly, he’s hollowing his cheeks as he suckles from your tit like a newborn babe.
You splutter as your waist stammers atop of your boyfriend once more as he drives his hips into you, a grin lifting at his features as Jimin hums in satisfaction at the way your flesh melds around his mouth, the vibrations shooting like an arrow straight down to your cunt as your boyfriend impels himself inside you with a powerful thrust that had been drawn from the bow of his own hips.
It’s enough to have you keen, one of your hands lifting behind you and back to tangle in the roots of your boyfriend’s tresses while your other cards through Jimin’s locks as you encourage both of them while you plead, “Please, don’t…don’t stop. I’m getting c-close.”
“What are you guys fucking doing to her? She sounds like she’s about to break,” Taehyung comments against the slick sounds of his hand fastening its pace along his length as he chides, “Jungkook, it’s rude to ignore your superior when he’s asking you questions.”
“You should consider it a privilege that I am allowing you to be part of this at all considering that you tried to take what will never be yours,” Jungkook groans when you pull at his hair while you swivel your hips erratically over him as you turn your head to the side to peer at him with a gaze that appears as fucked out as he will soon feel and he makes haste to attach his lips to the spot beneath your ear, his tongue darting along your sensitive skin while Jimin doubles his efforts on your breast to have you whining and when your boyfriend releases you, his other hand latches onto your neglected breast, his fingers expertly tweaking your nipple between them to have your own fingers tightening along your boyfriend’s thigh at the same moment that your walls contract around his member in warning whilst he amusedly discloses, “Since you’ve you been so complacent today, however, I think I will be merciful and let Jimin, your dear best friend, explain.”
With your breast still in his mouth, Jimin’s eyes have become clouded by the lust that hazes them and Jungkook grins at the sight of the elder man’s ruin while he manages, “I…I’m sucking at her tit, Taehyung. Jungkook was right. They’re so soft in my mouth,” he draws shapes along your areola as he swallows and it’s only when you let your fingernails trail along his scalp that he is coaxed into continuing, “Jungkook is, well… she’s riding him and facing me so that I can see everything. You’d probably c-come if you saw this, Tae. She’s…she’s absolutely heaven in my mouth and her pussy just keeps swallowing Jungkook like it can’t get enough of him. It’s hotter than anything we’ve ever seen at the s-strip club.
“Good boy, Jimin. So obedient for me. You may have your reward now,” Jungkook grunts while you bear yourself down on him at the same time that he slams his hips up into you all while he gropes at both breasts in his mission to have as much of you as he possibly can before he instructs, “Kiss her where she needs us most, Jimin. Taste her for yourself and see how fucking divine she is and understand why all men eventually get on their fucking knees for this cunt of hers.”
The sounds of sluiced skin reverberate through the phone that lays innocently on the desk despite the sin unfolding around it and Jimin does as he’s told like the perfect little student and before you realize what’s happening, he liberates your breast from his mouth and delivers devastating osculation down your chest in flurried busses amidst lips soft as snowflakes as he descends down your body slowly.
Your own movements atop your boyfriend’s member quicken in the rapid anticipation driving you back and forth on him and when you watch him pause his ministrations when he gets to the apex of your thighs, for you are entirely fascinated by the way that Jimin draws his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at your sex that greedily clings to your boyfriend’s dick.
When his eyes roam upward and he meets your own, something flares in them to stoke the already fierce fire within you and when you curl your fingers in his locks to encourage him toward you, he relinquishes to you as if he’s merely your own plaything that you can do with as you wish.
When his mouth finally affixes itself to the bundle of nerves that sit above your glistening folds, you cry out as your cunt closes around your boyfriend’s member, your fingers tethering onto them both as your thighs begin to tremble once more in the attention that is lavished on you between them.
Your boyfriend’s fingers find themselves winding around your neck once more as he draws your back against his chest and he croons, “Are you close, my love? Do you want Jimin to help you cum on me?” He hums when you nod frenetically to say, “I bet it must be really difficult not to let go and get daddy all dirty with your cum, huh? That’s alright. I’ll let you finish on me soon, but first,” his fingers constrict around your throat as he breathes into the shell of your ear, “What did I tell you that you need to do when you want something?”
Language lurks somewhere in your addled brain and, as if to save you from punishment, Jimin lightens his ministrations to your cunt and instead airily pecks at your clit as you search your mind for what your boyfriend wants to hear.
The longer you take, the more compactly his fingers curve around your throat and it’s when the hand still around your breast possessively squeezes you that breathe the air that begins to threaten to enter your airway as you respond,” Words, sir. You have taught me that I need to use my words to get what I want.”
“That’s my girl. You’ve been so good for daddy, haven’t you?” He asks as he propels his hips into you in a harsh sweep of his hips that you readily receive as your walls welcome him.
“Yes,” you suspire when his fingers release you around your throat to dive down and rest on your hip as he eagerly pulls you back down on him to earn a whimper from you, “I want..want to cum on you, daddy. Will you let your babygirl have her release, please? Want it so bad. Want you so badly, sir.”
“Mmm,” your boyfriend hums, “I like it when it you beg for me. Since you’ve been so well behaved and let daddy do whatever he wanted with you, I will give it to you,” he says between kisses down your spine that his own bones will allow him to grant you before he straightens and speaks up, “Jimin, take her into your mouth once more, but this time, make love to her with your lips while her boyfriend fucks her tight little cunt, yeah? I want to see if she’ll squirt for us.”
Jimin does just as he’s told, his mouth closing around your clit at the same time that your boyfriend crams himself inside you whilst his hand whorls around your areola as you squirm atop him. Jimin is tentative in the way he brushes the bundle of nerves with his tongue, but your boyfriend is surefire in the way he pistons himself up into you, your cunt fluttering around him in warning as you blurt,” C-close, Jungkook. Please-“
“Cum all over me, babygirl. Get daddy all fucking wet and cream all over these pants that you fucking ruined because you need me so bad,” your boyfriend declares, both of his hands reaching for and trapping one breast in their hold as you fuck yourself over him before he husks, “Let Jimin see how good you are for me, doll. Show him how much you love my cock by coming around me and soaking me in your sweet juices, baby.”
It is with a devastating swipe of Jimin’s thick tongue against your clit while your boyfriend tweaks your nipples between his fingers as he drives his hips purposefully into you that you throw your head back, your eyes rolling as you careen off the edge of the release you’d been dangling over for so long. It hits you like a watery wave that cascades over you and you scream out your boyfriend’s name as your walls swell around him and he throbs inside you while your walls clench repeatedly in their need to keep him locked within you until the last of your release has deluged you.
Your essence pours down from the rainforest of your sex and you don’t know how long your womanhood ebbs and flows with it as your body is flooded with endorphins that liquifies your insides as Jungkook fucks you through it whilst Jimin sucks at your clit without pause, his tongue lapping at your sopping center that is doused with your taint like he’s a starved man eating away at the delicatessen that is you.
“That’s it, babygirl. Let him taste how fucking delectable you are,” your boyfriend croons, his lips securing themselves to your exposed shoulder to bring your flesh between his teeth as he too suctions you within his mouth as he coos, “She’s getting me all wet, isn’t she, Jimin? Does she taste as good as she looks? Come on, tell me, pretty boy.”
Jimin releases you once he runs his tongue between your silken folds, his entire chin smeared in your essence as wipes it away with the back of his hand before licking away at that which has soiled his own skin as he peers with a hooded gaze up at you to confirm, “She’s sweeter than honey, Jungkook. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted pussy that appetizing. I…I could eat her out all day.”
“Of course you could,” Jungkook amusedly replies, one hand settling on your hip to still your shaking limbs as his aching cock sobs for more within you, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your side while the digits of his other palm fondly trace the blooming petals of red and purple marring every inch of your throat and shoulders as he muses, “And what of you, babygirl? Did daddy take good care of you?”
“Yes,” you try between labored breaths despite the way you lean into your boyfriend’s wandering fingers, “You treated me so well, sir. Felt so amazing.”
Your boyfriend watches you lay your head back onto his shoulder, a smirk rising along the edges of both lips in amusement as he observes how your eyes flutter closed, your body sagging back against him despite the cock that is still lodged balls deep inside you.
“I do hope that’s not all that you’ve got to give me, babygirl,” Jungkook tells you, the fingers along your nape ascending until he’s grasping your chin to urge your head to the side so that you stare into his simmering irises that are quick to light the fire of desire within you anew before he darkly declares, “because daddy’s not done with you yet.”
Your breath hitches at that and Jungkook finds it adorable that your eyes manage to widen so largely while Jimin’s own just about bulge from his head at the insinuation.
“D-daddy, I don’t know if I can take it,” you hardly manage to get out before he roughly consumes them himself, his mouth attaching to yours and drawing what little breath you had left away from you as his tongue glides across your lower lip before he nips at you in punishment.
When he pulls away, you’re left entirely breathless as he taunts, “You will do what I tell you to because you want to please me, don’t you? You say that you can’t handle more, but you’re the same person that begs for my cock every night because you’re such a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?”
“I…” You trail off when his irises dip languidly down your body until they souse themselves where you are still connected to him and underneath that, the collection of your slick that you’ve deposited over every inch of his nether region.
“Cat got your tongue, baby? Or should I say cock got your tongue because of how needy for me that little cunt is?” He asks with a flick of a dark, sculpted brow.
Despite the release that has just washed over you, you find the tide of lust soaking you through with each word he speaks, your core dripping even more of your essence onto the pool of it that has accumulated over Jungkook.
Jimin only looks on in rapt interest, his own cock quivering with the want that strikes him through at the spectacle of you spread open atop of your boyfriend.
“Did she get off on you, Jungkook? Shit, that’s got me hard again,” Taehyung curses through the phone that had long been forgotten by you and Jungkook in the rapture that had befallen you both.
“She did, Taehyung. She loved it, too,” your boyfriend affirms as you nuzzle him affectionately before he chuckles at your adorability, “She’s ready for round two now, I think. Jimin,” Jungkook’s blackened irises sear into the elder man’s, “You are to go to the couch over there and strip for her, but keep the tie on. Once you’re done with that, lay down on your back and wait for my precious doll to come to you when I tell her to. Got it?”
“I-I understand.” Jimin responds as he stands, his knees sore from being on them too long as he leaves the two of you and begins divesting himself of his attire much to none of the notice of the both of you.
Jungkook allows you to nudge his neck with your nose, your warm breaths tickling his skin and when you make the mistake of shifting, he hisses, “Careful, baby. You wouldn’t want me to take you right here again, now would you?”
You lick at your lips while you stare openly at his, the hand that still is entrenched in his tresses sliding down to cup the base of his neck as you apologetically blink up at him to admit, “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know you didn’t, petal,” he caresses your cheek with the knuckles of his hand before he helps you off of him only to turn you around in his lap, his still hard cock springing back against his chiseled abdomen and it is only when you face him that he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear to praise, “You’ve been so good for me, baby. Do you want me to give you a reward?”
“You already have, my love,” you whisper as you lean forward to kiss the freckle beneath his bottom lip that you love so much before you tell him again, “You already have.”
“So wonderful for me,” he adulates as he cups your cheek and runs the pad of his finger along it to utter, “Wanna make you come again, beautiful. Will you let me?”
You nod, your own hand taking his tie between your fingers and twirling it around them as you bite your lip, “You already know the answer a thousand times over, Jungkook. I want to please you, too. Can I?”
The hand on your waist wraps around you to pull you close so that you hover only an inch or so away from him and he groans at the way your hand closes around the base of his member to stroke him tortuously, his eyes flashing perilously as his own fingers enfold themselves around you to hold you in an iron hold as he husks, “You want to make me feel good, baby? Fine. Take off this shit covering my chest. I want feel you against me when I fuck you so good you’ll beg for me never to stop.”
The ire of desire blazes at that within you, your fingers quickly moving to unknot the tie wound around the base of his neck. You make quick work of it, for you’d been the same one who had put it on him this morning after he’d taken you in the shower and bed. The coat is next and he has to let go of you for a tormenting amount of seconds that drag on agonizingly slow in the loss of you, but once you get rid of the suit jacket he’d had you pick out for him, the black dress shirt is mercifully the last piece of clothing that separates you from him.
You salivate as you pop open the buttons that had already been opened down to the middle of his chest and with each iota of flesh kissed by the sun that is revealed to you, your salivary glands reproduce within your mouth to birth even more spittle as you hurriedly undo the fastenings of his garment. When the last button has been unsecured, that’s when you wet your lips amidst the aridity of desire that has dried them, your irises drinking him in as if drunk off of him as hunger coils low in your stomach.
Muscle cords every inch of him and the six pack that proudly ridges itself along his abdomen boasts its vigor in the way that they jump against your fingertips that lightly trace along the tautened skin that is so eager to receive you against it.
You push the shirt open thirstily amidst your throat that suddenly has become dryer than the Sahara desert as your irises roam upward to pectorals that must have been crafted by the gods in the thew of musculature that surrounds them.
His darkly colored nipples stand to attention as you draw your fingernails over them to earn a growl from him as he takes both hands and pins them behind your back in one of his own while his other coaxes your chin up as he lifts your head so that you have nowhere to look but his eyes that burn with want into your own as he warns, “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to handle myself. Don’t you want to play with Jimin? If you want to toy with me instead,” his voice hardens as your walls contract around nothing, “I’m more than happy to entertain you myself.”
You whine at his restraint and he simply clucks his tongue at you, “ I know that it’s hard to control yourself around me, babygirl, but wait just a bit longer for daddy, okay? Look,” he urges you to peer over at the couch that presents Jimin to you both and the man lies on his back as he’d been instructed to, his hand on cock as he palms at himself while he watches the two of you, “he’s waiting for you, doll. See what you’ve done to him?”
You can only whimper at the sight of the erect dick that sticks out of the pants he’s left open, his own coat long discarded with his dress shirt to leave only his black tie that dangles just before his cock. He’s about half the size of your boyfriend (of whom has the most monstrously made cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of having inside you), but you have not a care in the world about that as you observe the precum that he swirls around the head of his member, his eyes hooded as he gazes at you and calls for you, “Y/N…please…”
You hardly realize what you’re saying before the words leave you in stilted whisper, “Want you both. Want you to fuck me so well like you always do while I play with him, daddy,” you pull your sight away from Jimin to glance back at your boyfriend who is smirking cockily as you ask, “Can I have your permission?”
“Since you asked so nicely,” Jungkook ghosts his lips along your jawline, “go ahead, baby. Go warm yourself up on him and get ready for me, yeah?”
“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily whilst he attaches his mouth along the edge of your maw and flicks his tongue devilishly against you before pulling away to help you up, the hand that had been holding your own prisoner releasing you to find the zipper amid your backside only to pull it open, your skirt sliding down your legs to puddle around your feet.
You thank whatever force of nature had made you decide on your white lace thong for the day because Jimin’s gasp from behind you is audible to your ears as you preen at Jungkook’s own hitched breath that is fast to deepen into a growl as each thumb hooks under the sides of the panties he’d bought for you, his irises dilating at the sight he’d been denied when he’d been fucking you earlier.
“Can’t believe you were wearing these for me, babygirl. You really do want to tempt daddy into losing his fucking mind over that pussy, huh? Such a fucking whore for me,” he rasps as he pulls the pearled strings of the panties apart so that they too join your skirt on the floor as you rub your thighs together amid the finger he slides between your glistening folds, your own hands finding his shoulders and clutching onto him as you moan, your head falling back as he rubs his digit along your slit.
“Only for you, Jungkook,” you tell him as he spreads your legs apart with his other hand whilst the one currently nestled between your folds drags along your labia.
“As you should be, baby,” he announces as he collects your juices and brings two fingers to his mouth only to suck on them as heat floods your core at the damning view of that as he groans at your succulent taste, “Now go and prepare yourself for me. Rub yourself on top of Jimin’s little cock and when I’m ready, I’ll join you.”
He waits for you to take a step away from him, your knees buckling under you as your weight makes them wobble after what your boyfriend has allowed to be done to you and before you have time to let fear grip you in your descent toward the floor, his hands are there to grasp each side of your waist to steady you whilst your own grapple for each of his wrists as you cling to him for support.
A strong chest melds itself to your back once more as he chuckles, “Everything okay, baby?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it, doll,” he lowers his head to whisper hotly into your ear, “When I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to walk, let alone stand, my love. Now, hurry along,” he ushers you forward and watches you stumble forth amidst the heels that you kick off in effort to reorient yourself with using your feet, a grin rising along his lips as he takes in your cuteness before his eyes flick down to the phone still sat atop his desk, “You’re being awfully quiet over there, Taehyung. Has the masturbation brought you that much satisfaction while you imagined it was my girlfriend that you were trying to fuck?”
“Shut the fuck up, brat,” Taehyung huffs in annoyance.
“Brat? Is that what you call the man that let you listen in while he fucked his soon to be fiancé? Interesting,” he muses as he runs a hand through his hair, his tongue poking against his cheek in visage that is not missed by you, your heart fluttering at the words he’d many times uttered to you in the tender aftercare of passionate lovemaking and you smile at that despite the gruffness to which your boyfriend speaks with next as his irises find and melt into yours, “Such an ungrateful prick that you are, Taehyung. Since you want to act like a dick, I think I’ll just leave you to trying to keep your own hard while I ravage my girlfriend. How does that sound for being a brat?”
“Jungkook, do not hang up on me,” Taehyung cautions, “You’ll regret it. As co-founder of this company, I can take her from you.”
Jungkook growls, his jaw clenching at the same time that you sex contracts around nothing as he ticks his head to the side in a habit you’ve grown fond of whenever he’s especially unappeased with something as he bites out, “You dare to threaten me, Taehyung? You have the audacity to challenge me for what has always been mine and that which fucking ran from you and into my waiting arms when you tried to make advancements on my fiancé? You’ve just awoken the fucking lion, co-founder Taehyung,” Jungkook spits out, “Try me and you’ll get the fucking claws. She is mine and I decide where she goes, got it?”
“Such a child,” Taehyung laughs mirthlessly from the other end.
“Such a fool,” Jungkook jabs, “to lose to the likes of a child that will now ravish what you’ve sought after for years and yet, she chose me. She’ll always choose me.”
“Jungkook, if you end this call, I’ll-“
The man never finishes his sentence, for Jungkook terminates the call with the press of a finger, his chest puffing out in a show of virility that has you wanting to whimper for him as his eyes lift from the screen to your own to raze your insides with heat of a wildfire as he demands, “Get on Jimin right now before I change my mind and take you home to screw you senseless into our bed until I’ve fucked all this irritation out of me.”
Desire flares in your sex as you quickly plant both hands on Jimin’s much narrower chest and swing your leg over him until you sit astride him on the couch, your irises pulled into the magnets of your boyfriend’s eyes that attract you so even when you’re straddling another man.
He stalks forward towards you and, needing to relieve some of the knotted tension between your thighs, you shift and seat yourself over Jimin’s smaller cock, your mouth parting as you rub yourself along his length only to plead for you boyfriend, “Jungkook…more. Come to me, please.”
Your voice wraps around your boyfriend like cool water on a stinging wound and, promptly, the anger that had begun to well up within him is drained by you as you implore him with begging eyes whilst you drag yourself over Jimin’s hardened length and Jungkook is helpless to watch as Jimin’s veiny member slides between your still sopping folds as you draw yourself along his dick.
The elder man stays quiet, his hand rising to cover his mouth to stifle the sounds he’d make so as not to bear the brunt of whatever Taehyung had done to Jungkook, for he knows full well that Jungkook could snap if you do not completely calm the storm that had begun to brew within him.
Your boyfriend looms ever closer and, like a predator to its prey, he stands tall above your much smaller body as his irises distend over you and he devours the sight that is you as you work yourself over Jimin and lather him in your essence. His already rearing member prods at your hole on one particular sweep of your hips over him and your boyfriend catches the way your breath is shakily exhaled from you as you peer up at him and only him, for you do not dare to look away when he’s looking at you like you’re a five course meal he’d eagerly eat.
And gorge himself on you he does, because in the next moment, he’s behind you and sitting on his knees as his fingers spread your ass apart to reveal a puckered hole for him. His dick twitches at the thought of what he will soon do, one finger tracing the rimmed entrance that borders the back of your ass and when his finger is replaced with his mouth, that’s when you moan only for him to shove his tongue inside you as he suckles at your asshole.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight even after the many times I’ve fucked you right here. Relax for me if you want my cock, Y/N. You want it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathe, “want it so much, sir. Please, give it to me. I’m ready.”
Jimin, utterly enticed by the way your breasts bounce in your movements, leans up to take one in his mouth while your boyfriend opens you up for him, your walls rigid at first yet soon they soften to grant Jungkook greater access as he preps you.
The tight ring of muscle around Jungkook’s tongue loosens around him when Jimin dances his tongue along the floor of your tit that he welcomes into his mouth, pleasure lighting you up inside like dynamite as you buck your hips over the elder man’s length.
“You’re not ready if daddy has to work this much to get you to open up for him, baby. No matter,” he hums even with his tongue still stuck inches deep within you to send vibrations at sonic speed to your core as he goes on, “I don’t mind fucking you with my mouth if it means you’ll be able to take my big, fat cock.”
When Jungkook pushes in a finger to join the tongue that swirls around your asshole, that’s when your back bows inward as he strings you like the puppet your body is for him around his digits, his finger curling inside you devastatingly as his tongue whorls around it to have you stutter, “P-please. Don’t want to wait for you anymore, daddy. Need you inside me now.”
“You want something to fill that little cunt of yours?” Jungkook’s tongue extricates itself from you only for two fingers to take its place beside the one he’d already put into you as all three scissor you and you can only make a choked sound until he orders, “Then try and see if you can fit Jimin’s fucking dick inside it and keep his cock warm until mine joins it in your fucking ass.”
Your boyfriend’s fingers shear into you with precision as you obey, your fingernails biting into Jimin’s pecs as you align yourself with his thinner cock and finally sink down on it to sit obediently on top of him in wait of your boyfriend’s next set of instructions. When your boyfriend takes you like this, usually you feel like you’ll burst with how large he is and how wholly he fills you. Jimin, however, is a miniature version that is much easier to maneuver yourself on without the colossal member attached to your boyfriend that you’ve known to satisfy you for so long now.
Jimin’s eyes shut as he releases your breast from his mouth only to litter the underside of it with light kisses. He’s careful not to mar your flesh with his mark, for you do not belong to him and he knows that doing so will only stir Jungkook’s wrath later on, so he chooses to be wiser and avoid that as your hips still upon the final inch of him that you seat yourself on as Jungkook’s hands grip your sides roughly for leverage as the three fingers he’s plunged in you are impelled into you in forceful motions that have you whining in want of him.
“You listen so well, baby. Your ass is so fucking tense, but I guess it’s been a while since I fucked you back here, huh? I’ll have to keep it in mind to put my cock in your ass more often, I think.” He draws his fingers out of you, his fingertips grazing your walls on the way only for him to propel them roughly within you as you fight the urge to ride the man beneath you as Jungkook asks, “Are you ready for me? I don’t think I can wait for you any longer, baby. I’ve been without you for long enough.”
“Please,” you beg as you present your ass to him the best that you can while you’ve got a dick nestled between your netherlips, “Want you so badly, Jungkook. Let me have your big cock. You always take me so well with it.”
The words have hardly left your mouth before the fingers inside you are pulled out, the tip of his well lubricated dick prodding at your hole as his fingers tighten along your sides for him to apprise, “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop until you’re milking the dick inside you while you beg for the mercy only I can give to you. This is your last warning.”
You feel the shift of the couch behind you as your boyfriend rises to his knees, his tip poking at your hole as he hovers over you.
Your hand closes around his wrist as you look back at him to offer, “I won’t stop you. I won’t ever stop you, my love. Do it. Let me feel you inside me once again, for the absence of you is too difficult to bear,” you release a sigh of satisfaction as he inches himself inside you as you breathe,” I yearn for you, Jungkook. Let me have you.”
You watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken as he taunts, “You want me, baby? You can fucking have me.”
With that, he plunges his cock into you without pause, a slight burn searing your walls as he stretches you out with his member as you cry out his name. You’re jostled atop of Jimin in the power that Jungkook sheathes himself into you with, your sex riding Jimin’s member without either of you doing anything in the aftershocks of what Jungkook quakes your body with as his teeth bite at the nape of your neck whilst he pummels you ruthlessly.
Pleasure pangs through you as your boyfriend rocks into you from behind and, wanting Jimin to do something to quell the need that smolders within you, your fingers wrap around the tie still draped around his neck as you pull it so that he’s made to sit up as you narrow your eyes, “Fuck me, Jimin. Let me see if you can please me like my future husband can. No one has ever made me feel as good as he has. Show me what you can do to me, Jimin.”
He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the movement and when your boyfriend thrusts violently into you to have your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jimin’s irises set determinedly before he impetuses his hips within you to have you moan out for them both.
“No one fucks you like I do,” Jungkook hisses as he rams into you, your fingers constricting around the tie as you inhale the same air that Jimin releases in what little space settles between your lips as you bounce on the blonde-haired man while your boyfriend grunts, “And when I have you in our bed later tonight, I’ll make sure to fucking remind me you of that. The only reason he’s here right now is because I can’t say no if it means my babygirl will be happy.”
You bob atop of Jimin as Jungkook continues to pound you, his dick far too little for your cunt that has become too used to the fullness of your boyfriend who splits you open every time he’s inside you and you whine in desire of more, your forehead resting against Jimin’s as you release his tie and drag his hand up so that it envelops your breast, his tiny fingers a stark contrast to Jungkook’s much longer ones as they stroke your supple skin while you part your lips for him and wait for him to take the offering you give to him.
“Kiss me, Jimin,” you plead, your other hand laying itself over his cheek amidst the jerking field of vision your boyfriend wracks you in as you breathe, “Let me prove to him that your lips are as pretty as they look.”
“My…my lips are pretty?” He swallows as you nod and he meets you willingly with soft, plushy lips that are soft as pillows against you and he’s much gentler than Jungkook as his tongue tentatively drapes itself over your own as it asks for entrance and when you grant it, his warm muscle dances with your own to the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart, his digits splaying themselves over your breast to rub soothing circles into them as he holds you close, your whimper taken into his mouth as your hips rotate atop him so that his length brushes the very edge of the cluster of nerves deep within you that your boyfriend aids in pushing him further into you with alongside the shove of his own cock into your ass.
Jungkook swivels his own hips into you while he watches Jimin tilt his head to the side to receive you, the two of you soon becoming enraptured with each other as he traces your lips with his tongue whilst you nibble at his bottom lip.
“Keep going, Jimin, you’re making her feel good,” Jungkook husks.
With each kiss, Jimin seems to grow bolder, his lips soon traveling southward as he busses your chin and then down the column of your throat as you lift your head to give him access. He’s sure to let his tongue brush your flesh as he goes, your core clenching around him when he laves his tongue over your nipple that you lower into his mouth.
“That’s it, Jimin, keep going. She’s getting wet again, isn’t she?” Jungkook inquires, one hand dipping from your side so that his fingers slide through your soddened folds as he groans, “Fuck, she’s so wet for us, Jimin. She likes what you’re doing, doesn’t she, babygirl?”
“Ah-“ you gasp when he attaches his lips to your abused breast, his tongue lapping at your nipple as he you gyrate your hips atop him before Jungkook pounds into you once more, “I like it so much. Your mouth is so much better than I ever thought it would be, Jimin, fuck.”
“I’m glad you think so, Y/N,” he mouths from around the tit that is presently within his mouth, his lips caressing your sensitive skin as he says, “You don’t know how long I thought about doing this,” the hand that still enfolds your other tit warmly kneading at it as he licks at your hardened bud to continue, “You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you here, how much I wanted to feel you like this.”
“Consider yourself lucky that I’m the one allowing you to do what you are to her, Jimin. If it were any other man she’d asked me to do this with, I’d have said no. Want to know why?”
“Why?” Jimin mutters against the slick ‘pop’ that his mouth makes as he relinquishes your breast only to focus on the other, his hand draggling down your stomach to catch on the press of his cock against his palm from within you as you moan when he bucks up into you as Jungkook burrows brusquely inside you.
“Because,” Jungkook smirks knowingly at the blonde-haired man as he damns you with his cock through a devastating blow of his hips into you, the sounds of skin slapping sluicing the air around him as Jungkook confesses, “ You’re the only male that’s been around her for more than a week and not succumbed to her fucking charms that she likes to cast on just about everyone that owns a dick.”
“It’s not my fault,” you pout and Jimin takes the opportunity to sweep his thumb under your lip as you turn your head into his touch so that he swipes his digit along your lip that you eagerly pucker your lips against in a fleeting kiss to his finger before you take his wrist to tug it down the line of your chin and along the column of your throat until he’s descending among the valley of your breasts while Jungkook jostles you forward and back. When Jimin’s fingers nurture the bud of nerves hedging the garden of your pussy, you moan, “How can I be blamed when I don’t even do anything but get their cocks wet for me, daddy?”
“It’s all a game to you, isn’t it? God, you look like a fucking ragdoll with how rough you’re being handled, babygirl,” Jungkook says as he slams his hips into you to give a grunt, “Of course it’s your fault when you look like such a pretty little toy that they want to fucking break. You only opened your seams for me, though, yeah?”
“Yes, Jungkook,” you laboriously get out and it is only then that you feel your boyfriend’s chest press down over yours, his arms falling forward to cage you into the solid plane of Jimin, your own breasts falling over the blonde-haired man’s pectorals as you as you’re melded to lay flush against him. Your hips jerk when Jimin’s cock grazes the clump of nerves deep inside you at Jungkook’s powerful ministrations, your mouth dropping open and your eyes fluttering closed as your breath hitches, “O-oh…Jimin…”
The blonde-haired man’s cock twitches inside you at the mention of his name, but in the following moments that Jungkook screws you without abandon, he watches your face contort into one of unadulterated pleasure as he whisks his middle finger over your clit that has become engorged with the blood that pulsates needily for him and the male above you. It is a wonder that the space between your bodies is just small enough to allow him this and he touches you like you’re a glass figurine while your boyfriend fucks into you like you’re his puppet.
“Jungkook, you should see her. She’s so hot. Shit,” Jimin doesn’t know he’s said what he’d been thinking aloud until there’s a dark chuckle that consumes any other sound as it emits itself from between your boyfriend’s lips as he rails you against the elder man and when Jimin drives his hips into you the same way he’d seen your boyfriend do to meet him halfway in reducing you to a mess of limbs between their chests, you give a guttural scream that has the windows around you shaking in the shrillness pitching your voice that has them threatening to crack.
“Ah, there it is,” Jungkook husks, his hot breath drifting over the crook of your neck as he teases, “I’ve got you screaming for me just as I promised I would,” his tongue laves at the nape of your neck before teeth nip the tender spot as he forges forward into you all while Jimin ogles you from beneath him as your boyfriend utters, “What of my other vow to you, baby? Can you fucking tell which direction is which or have I turned that upside down, too?” You shake your head as he plows into you, your world spinning as he corkscrews himself within you as he taunts, “Can you even remember anything beyond my name anymore, doll?”
Your walls clench around Jimin, who hisses at the sudden succumbing of his member to your sex as you’re knocked repeatedly into him like the pendulum of a seesaw, one side of your thoughts swinging to the other as you try, “J-Jungkook…Jimin …I-again…n-need-“
“Mmm,” Jungkook hums,” She’s close. She can’t even fucking talk anymore. Jimin,” black eyes raze his own, “let’s wrap this up, shall we?”
“What,” Jimin swallows as he watches the way your digits quiver around him as he skillfully skims his finger along the bud of nerves cresting your sex and your chest slides against his in the sweat that slickens you along him, the knot of pleasure deep in your core tightening just as your own hand does over the blonde-haired man’s wrist whilst your other grabs onto the twisted nodule of fabric at the base of his neck in your effort to hold onto something as you whisper his name pleadingly and Jimin is helpless to give you what you ask for at your glassy eyes that so resemble a priceless statuette as he adds a second finger to join the first to stimulate the button decorating your treasure as he asks, “what can I do to your beautiful little doll, Jungkook?”
“Look at me while I fuck you, babygirl,” Long fingers curl around your jaw as he turns your head to the side so that you’re granted a glorious view of them both, your breath hitching at the way beads of sweat clamping to thick strands of tresses black as a raven’s wing falling perilously over your boyfriend’s eyes that glint dangerously at you, his own lips red as a rose from biting them too much as he snaps his hips ferociously into you, a moan drawn forth from you at the sight of him in combination with the frisk of Jimin’s shorter fingers along your clit as your boyfriend smirks, “As for you, Jimin, you may keep touching her where she needs it. I’m going to help you ruin her needy, pretty cunt and when I do,” you skin pebbles when Jungkook’s hot breath billows over it as he orders, “You’re going to damn her with your cock at the exact moment I decimate her with mine. Understand?”
“Can she handle that, though? What if she-“ Jimin never finishes because Jungkook’s voice that is draped in certitude covers it.
She will take it because she was made for me and will do whatever I ask of her, won’t she, babygirl?” As if to prove a point, his cock converges with your sex, your nipples poking into Jimin, who makes a choked sound as you rake your fingernails through his hair as satisfaction strikes you through whilst Jungkook’s fingers constrict just enough so that your attention does not stray from him and look away from him you do not when a familiar calloused thumb joins the two of Jimin’s that had been measuredly swiping themselves over your bud as Jungkook flicks a brow up in expectation, “Come on, baby. Tell Jiminie here that you can take it for daddy.”
“J-Jungkook,” you implore with a nod, for the only language that you can possibly speak at this point is his name as he rocks into you while his thumb circles languidly at your clit alongside Jimin that are slower and softer in their ministrations, your eyelids drooping amidst the dark bliss the heavies them.
“Good girl,” Jungkook praises and you preen at that, a dopey smile crossing your features in the vapors of lust that have settled over you while Jungkook’s thumb fastens its movements to reward you as he commands, “Jimin, match your pace with mine, yeah? Playtime is almost over for this one.”
Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice with his own end on the horizon. With determination that twines itself through his eyes, his two digits that he has attached to you mirror Jungkook as if your boyfriend is the puppeteer of you both. Jungkook swirls his thumb expertly along your button while he marionettes his cock into you with fervor and you clench as he licks his lips to husk, “So beautiful, doll. You look like you’re about to fucking break,” he gives a sharp shunt into you, his balls slapping against your ass as you clench around Jimin, a strangled sound coming from between his lips and Jungkook doesn’t have to be in your cunt to know that you’re just as near as Jimin looks to be with the way that drool pools along the sides of his mouth and, with a grin, Jungkook’s irises string from yours to the blonde-haired man’s as he winds you up around him and when he hastens his fingers over you to have you whimper, that’s when he orders, “Now, Jimin. Screw her with your cock while I fuck her with mine until she cums all over you.”
“Fuck,” Jimin curses, his hips twisting up into yours at the exact moment that your boyfriend deliciously drills his own dick with into your plushily lined sex as you’re reared against the blonde-haired man and geared like a fucking machine between the cogs of them both that grind into you and when Jimin’s cock throbs tellingly within you while your boyfriend stares down at you with danger flashing in pupils that dilate automatically for you, that’s when you fucking scream.
The glass rattles as your voices pierces the air around you while you’re battered like a stuffed animal between two rough children and Jungkook’s eyes strike you deep with the cocks that fill you up as they devastatingly pair their thrusts together and when your boyfriend’s fingers intertwine with the one you’d unknowingly been clutching at the couch with, that’s when he grunts, “Come on, baby. Want you to come for daddy. Can you do that for me? Can you show Jimin how beautiful you are when that pretty little cunt finishes all over his cock while you look at me?”
With the wind that is continually knocked out of you, all you can do is blink up at him in answer as you wrap your fingers around his at the same time the digits of your other hand tighten and tug at Jimin’s scalp only for the blonde-haired man to peer up at Jungkook as you’re dangled over the edge of your precipice once more, your walls fluttering in warning and Jimin, through irregular breaths that are drawn out of him in the rigorousness of his efforts, understands enough to let your boyfriend know, “She’s about to meet her end, J-Jungkook. Sh-She’s squeezing my dick. It feels so good.”
“Feels like heaven around your cock, doesn’t it? Of course it does,” Jungkook groans as he plunges himself into you while Jimin rolls his hips, your head falling forward so that your temple rests against Jimin’s forehead while your mouth parts as their fingers quicken against your clit as you moan only for him to husk, “Shit, you’re so good for us, baby. I think I’ll let you cum for me in a minute, but first, what do you say when you want something from daddy?”
Your mind has become wired only to the pleasure that pangs through you with each sweep of their cocks within you, but somehow, you wrack your brain to find the only other words that you know always appease him to pant, “Please, Jungkook…n-need you.”
“That’s it, baby,” he rasps as your boyfriend runs his finger ruinously between Jimin’s own digits that draw shapes into your button and when Jungkook’s digit suddenly drags itself in hard figure-eight motions along it to the same time that his cock cataclysmically crashes impossibly deep into your ass, that’s when you’re thrashed against Jimin. The elder man perfectly times the buck of his hips into you so that his cock arcs against the clutter of nerves hidden precariously inside you, your irises jerking over the him before they’re threshed to your boyfriend that lodges his cock once, twice and then three more times within you to finally command, “Cum for me, babygirl. Get Jimin all fucking soaked because of what I let him do to you. Give me your fucking orgasm, doll. Give it all to me and let him watch you, yeah?”
With the sin he spews, you release is swift to unravel you as you come undone, your walls spasming violently over Jimin and he hisses at the way you contract around him as if to pull him in, his own end quick to follow yours as your sex shudders around him amidst your trembling thighs that shake with the rest of your body as you shriek shrilly, your fingers constricting around Jungkook’s own as you hold onto him for dear life.
When Jimin shoots a hot rope of seed inside you as his member twitches erratically, you hardly have time to moan at the sensation of it before your boyfriend possessively curls an arm around your front to pull you up and against his chest as he sits back on his heels to have Jimin’s own dick slip out of you and the other man throws his head back against the armrest of the couch to stroke himself needily as he hastens to replicate the feel of you around his member while he continues to spill all over himself amidst the pool of your own juices that you’ve splashed all over his dick.
“You’re mine,” Jungkook’s other hand releases your own to wrap around your throat so that your head falls back against his shoulder as he crazedly crams himself into you again and again, the palm on your abdomen resting where his much larger cock pokes against it before trailing up to grab one breast as you whine while your own orgasm still forcibly strikes you through in unending sparks that electrify you as your boyfriend powers into you from behind before he growls, "Let him fucking see you fall apart for the only cock that you'll ever love, baby. You belong to me. Say it."
“Y-yours, Jungkook…yours,” you cry out and it is that that has your boyfriend descending into his own end as he gives a guttural groan that you engulf when he urges your head to the side so that you can swallow the sound through the attachment of your mouths and he keeps his sealed against you until you kittenishly slide your tongue against his lower only for him to open his mouth to you and suck your tongue, along with any remaining air that you had, between his lips as he feasts on you until you have no oxygen or saliva left to give him.
Jimin observes it all, heat stirring in his abdomen as he rubs furiously at his softening length that even now still oozes with the cum both you and he have drenched it with.
Infatuation influxes the blonde-haired man at the way desire rings itself around the corner of your eyes from you in the cords of pleasure you’d been fibrously instilled with whilst Jungkook holds you close, your brows scrunching together as you bite your lip between your teeth in the aftershocks of your orgasm as your chest heaves over your boyfriend’s, the petalled marks that Jungkook had left over you blushing your flesh in your labored breaths.
It’s captivating as a current and Jimin is pulled asunder for you all while Jungkook watches the emotions ripple across the blonde-haired man’s face, amusement lifting at your boyfriend’s lips at how easy it had been for you to capture yet another man in the palm of your hand.
When Jungkook carefully extricates himself from to lay back on the opposite side of the couch with you still in his arms, he chuckles to himself as you silently nestle yourself against his side to snuggle up to him, one arm draping over his chest as you peer adoringly up at him while he makes room for you beside him to entwine his own limb around yours as he croons, “You’re so adorable after you get fucked, baby. Always have to cling to me afterward, huh? You know,” he traces the marks he’d left behind and you sigh with satisfaction as he does, “You’re cute, petal. Have I told you that today?”
“Mhm,” you purr as you turn on your side to give innocent pecks to his chest while your eyes close as fatigue pulls at them and you affirm, “All the time.”
“I think someone’s a little tired, doll. Do you want me to carry you to the car?” Jungkook asks as he brushes an especially red mark that has purple smearing itself around it and you lean into the touch as a smile lifts at your lips while you stare at the brands he’d left on you.
“’S fine. I can stay awake a-“ you yawn, your mouth opening only a little as you stretch your arms out before settling back next to your boyfriend –“little while longer.”
“Yes, you sound awfully convincing, don’t you?” He teases as he sits up and you immediately whine until he laughs and helps you onto his lap as he urges, “I think it might be best to take you home now, baby. You’re about ready to fall asleep. Help me zip myself up, will you?”
Responsive to him as ever, you tuck his member away before fastening his pants so that he looks presentable should someone see you and when he tucks you inside the blanket you’d hand-stitched and made for him for his birthday, you link your hands around his neck as he cradles you, his irises softening as he peers down at you while you whisper, “Thank you.”
The double meaning is not lost on him as you have always said those words whenever he’s done just about every single thing for you and he drags his knuckles along your cheek as he offers, “You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”
You giggle as you beam up at him with the toothy smile that still has his heart flipping in his chest to let him know, “I do. Do you know that I would do everything for you?”
He kisses you along the tip of your charming little nose as he nudges at your cheek, “And how could I ever forget that?”
He carefully swaddles you in the fluffy fabric until you’re completely covered and all the while, his fingers lovingly caress your sides as he gathers you up and stands with you swathed in the safety of his arms. With his attention captured by your irises that swim with devotion for him, he starts moving forward and with his back to the other man that still is splayed along the couch, he glances back to say, “Ah, and I did not neglect to acknowledge that you’re here, too, Jimin,” he winks, “You did well. I can tell she enjoyed herself. I’ll be in touch. Please make sure you lock up, for I have more important things,” he peers back down at you with affection crinkling his eyes for you, “to attend to.”
Jimin waits until the two of you vanish until he allows his own lips to lift out of joy born from watching such domesticity manifest itself in the form of two individuals that clearly were in love with each other with the way the emotion had so colored both of you and, with that emotion lifting his own heart, he dresses and locates his phone amidst the piles of clothes (both yours and his) that had long been forgotten.
Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to walk, Jungkook had decided that foregoing your outfit would be best and so, as he carries you through the halls like the bride you will soon be to him, he smiles as he gazes tenderly at you, your eyes closed as you snooze comfortably in the cushions of his body as he holds you.
You sleep peacefully in the passenger seat of his Mercedes S-Class Coupe and he glances at you every so often, your skin glowing amidst the emerald greens and ruby reds your skin shines with under the traffic lights as the city passes by in a whir with the constant to it all being your slumbering figure that gives him so much strength and stability in a ceaselessly churning life.
You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen even from the first time you’d caught his eye and now, after so much time has passed, you still remain the most priceless jewel to ever gleam for him amidst the dull, dim passersby that pale in comparison to your transfixing bright light.
When he’s pulled into the quiet mansion that stands tall in front of the richly hewn garden you have tended to that borders an impressive watering fountain that cost him thousands, none of it holds a candle to the treasure he takes into his arms as he withdraws you from the car and gently brings you upstairs. He’s careful not to make sound so as not to wake you and when he sets you smoothly on the bed, you do not rouse until the sound of water from the shower in the adjoining master bathroom trickles over your ears.
You divest yourself of your covering in search of the kind of warmth only your fiancé can grant to you and when you join him in the shower, he welcomes you and washes your hair before his hands trail along your body to clean that, too. You sigh in satisfaction as you thank him once more and with some insisting on your part, you do the same for him even in his concern that you might be too sore to do so. Mindless touches turn into something not so sinless as your hands wander along his chiseled figure that has the power to have you salivating with only one glance.
He’s hesitant at first because he knows you ache from the strenuousness of the night’s illicit activities, but in your want to reassure him that you are not as fragile as you appear, you fall to your knees before him and take him into your mouth, his groans heating you up as you rut against his leg while you suckle him. You eagerly devour his seed that you’ve come to love so much when he is ready to feed you and once he helps you rise from the ground, he’s sure to give you a kiss that would rival that of the one in the most beloved romance story before he dries you both against your ailing and feeble legs that are weak for him and when he sweeps you off your feet once more, he still kisses you like his hunger will never stop its craving for you.
Even when he lays you down like you’re a glass doll that might shatter if he’s not careful, he still treats you like a piece of art as he looks at you reverently whilst he makes love to you amid your breathless admissions of love for him while he fills your canvas with his seed until he can give you no more of his paint to taint you with.
And when the breeze blows against your sweat sluiced skin as you lay over him, your chin resting on his sternum while you innocently let the pad of your fingers brush his chest, he asks you, “Did I please you tonight, my love? Did you have fun?”
“Sweetheart,” you press your mouth to the dip between his collarbones before you breathe, “whenever I am with you, those two things are always a given.”
His heart dances in his chest at your admission and the fingers that skim your sides splay out to hold you closer as you stare fondly at him.
“Such a wonderful girl for me. Have I told you how perfect you are for me lately?” He questions, his thumbs drawing shapes into your skin as he goes on, “I don’t know if I have or not. I suppose you’ll have to remind me.”
"Every morning," you brush your lips against his own in a soft kiss before you pull away, "and every night, my love. Not a day goes by that you don't tell me that or how beautiful you think I am," you smile at him.
"It's because it's true. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and this, "he holds up the phone to show a text from Jimin you’d both missed in the middle of your lovemaking as he kisses the crest between your brows, "was for you, pretty girl. Whatever you want, I will always give it to you."
"You're too good to me, Kookie. I really am so lucky to have you," you caress him, your knuckles tracing his jawline as you stare tenderly up at him, "You've always been the best for me and when we marry," you coax him toward you and he heeds your urging fingers along his maw as he meets you halfway to connect your lips to his own, but this kiss is one that he takes control of and you let him, your lips parting for him as his tongue dips low into your mouth to reclaim every contour of you in his touch before he disconnects from you for you to vow, "I enjoyed messing around with Jimin, but once marriage binds us together forever, I will love you and only you until the end of my days. No matter what, I will always yearn for you."
"God, I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you and put a ring on your finger so that everyone knows that you’re all mine," he ardently declares as he rests his forehead against yours to breathe in your air as he confesses, "They say that happy marriages look to the future and not the past," he lays back and brings you with him so that you're lain across his chest, his heart beating to the same rhythm as yours as he grins, "but baby, you are what I want my time to be filled with. You're my past, my present and my future and what we have together, my beloved flower, will never wilt."
#btsbookclub#bangtanarmynet#ksmutclub#btsguild#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#dom!jungkook#sub!jimin#dom jungkook#jungkook smut#jimin smut#bts smut#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts scenarios#hot jungkook#jksource
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heyo! i wrote and posted this on my quotev for keith’s birthday (october 23, 2020) and i finally made a tumblr for my fanfiction soo here it is!!
keith kogane x f! reader
genre: fluff and slight angst!
This was what you had planned and written out coming to the Garrison.
(y/n's) Checklist: Garrison Days
Get into the Garrison✔️ extra: best friend is here too! :)
Get a license to become a co-fighter pilot extra: we're getting there!
Make new friends!✔️ extra: pidgeon, lancelot, and sunshine :D
Graduate!
Okay, granted, it's a bit short, but nevertheless it's straightforward and guaranteed to not knock you off course.
Although, this was the list that she seemed to be following at the moment.
(y/n's) Mental Bullshit Checklist
Fall in love with your best friend✔️
Sneak out of the Garrison basically every night to meet up with said best friend who just so happened to be expelled✔️
Fall in love with your best friend✔️
Keep secrets from your other best friends✔️
oh and FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND
✔️
Can't forget that checkmark.
You sighed.
'Damn him and his pretty face.'
Sighing once more, you flopped backward against your bed holding your phone out away from your face staring at the time.
11:23 p.m.
'It's still early. I'm not meeting up with Keith for at least another half hour.'
You frowned at your phone.
'I wish time would go faster. Or better yet, just skip this.'
You put the phone down opting to stare at the ceiling instead. Frankly, you were exhausted. Keith always ends up keeping you up till the very early hours of the morning, just before daybreak, leaving you with a small amount of sleep.
'I mean we do this basically every night. It wouldn't hurt to bail on him just this once right? It's not like we end up finding any clues about Shiro or "the energy source".'
Frowning again at the thought of your lost older brother figure, you closed your eyes and placed your right forearm against your eyes, leaving your other hand against your stomach holding your phone.
'A quick nap wouldn't hurt now would it?'
You shut your eyes slowly and then you were out like a light.
You awoke to light knocking at your door.
Opening your eyes slowly, you stared up at the ceiling, and you wait until your eyes get adjusted to the dim lighting of your room.
'Wait a damn minute.'
You frantically sit upright looking for your phone before spotting it on the floor. You immediately grab it before widening your eyes in horror.
12:46 a.m.
'Shit.'
*knock knock knock*
The knocking of the metal door snapped you back into your senses, making you rush all over the room fixing your appearance while simultaneously packing a small bag.
*knock knock knock*
'There's no fucking way Keith broke into the Garrison. There's no fucking way he's outside my door. No fucking way.'
'Guess we'll just have to find out.'
Taking a big deep breath, you allow the metal door to open.
And you end up staring into the blue orbs of your flirtatious best friend Lance McClain.
A sigh of relief passes in between your breath and you smile as you lean against the frame of your door only then noticing Hunk's panicky presence behind the lanky male. Ignoring his nervousness, you wave at the soon to be yellow paladin, with him exchanging a fidgety smile and wave in return.
Taking note of your sigh and smile, Lance speaks up with a cocky, goofy grin on his face.
"Woah there pretty lady, happy to see me?~"
Rolling your eyes with an equally goofy grin on your face you respond.
"Ha! In your dreams McClain."
"But you're always in my dreams (y/n)!" he replies cheekily.
Playfully shoving the tall teen backward, you stifle a laugh. You always enjoy your time with Lance; it's always been like this, the playful banter, everything. Even since you met as kids at the Garrison.
"Okay! Okay! Jeez (n/n) so violent."
Rolling your eyes again, you take another look at the best friend duo before asking, "So, care to tell me why you're here in front of my dorm at like one in the morning?"
Lance opens his mouth only to have Hunk shove the both of you back into your room with him following and the metal door shutting behind the three of you.
Lance not liking how he was treated so roughly, started to whine, "Hunkkkk what was that forrr- MPPFH," only to get interrupted by Hunk placing a hand on both of your mouths.
"SHHH! We have to be quiet you guys," Hunk lowers his voice, "I heard a guard walking down the other hallway, I think he might turn the way next! Oh wait! I hear him shhhhh"
The three of you stood still and quiet as you hear the footsteps of the guard get closer and closer until eventually fading.
After that very close call, you all sigh in relief as you had done a few minutes prior.
Suddenly remembering the conversation from a few minutes ago also made you become more aware of the time. Taking a look at the clock on your dresser, you curse under your breath.
12:57 a.m.
Quickly taking out your phone from your satchel, you curse again seeing the missed calls and text messages from Keith.
57 missed calls & 6 unread messages
keef♡
where are you?
sent 12:03 a.m.
(y/n) answer.
sent 12:07 a.m.
(y/n) pick up the damn phone! I know you're tired and I always drag you out late but come on pick up.
sent 12:09 a.m.
Okay, okay I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me.
sent 12:10 a.m.
(y/n) damn it. Now's not the time to be mad at me or to be sleeping. I think we might actually find something this time, I can feel it.
sent 12:15 a.m.
Fine then. I'll go on my own this time.
sent 12:17 a.m.
Ah shit. The only time Keith texts you first, and it's because you were being an idiot and accidentally bailed on him. Now he thinks that you've ditched him. Knowing him, he's gonna feel way more upset than you think because of what happened with his mom, dad, and Shiro.
'Ah I fucked up this time didn't I?'
Breaking out of your thoughts, you realize that you have guests at the moment.
You whispered yelled at the two taller boys, "What are you two doing here?!"
Lance sulked, "Aw (n/n) I could've sworn you were happy to see us like five minutes ago."
"That was before you almost got me in trouble!"
And that's coming from the girl who sneaks out of the Garrison on a daily basis. But they don't need to know that.
Not yet at least.
Hunk (bless his soul) interrupts Lance once more as he opens up his mouth, "Lance here wants to do some "team bonding" so we were going to get both you and Pidge, but we saw Pidge run out of his dorm, but we still needed to get you and this is the worst team-building exercise ever."
Ahh that's right.
The four of you got scolded today after failing the simulation.
Hunk puked, Pidge removed his (you're still doubting if he is really a he, but no judgment there) safety harness, and Lance crashed the jet. You on the other received praise from Iverson after attempting to pull a safer (cough cough Lance) emergency landing, and trying to pull the team together.
Well, it's your job as the co-pilot to keep Lance in check, just like how you attempted to keep Keith in check. All your teachers and other friends warned you about sticking close to Keith. They never did understand that you two had a close bond.
You two grew up together after all.
--
"Seriously (l/n) stay away from Kogane. You're a bright kid, you got real skill. Don't get mixed up with that troublemaker."
You look down as Commander Iverson speaks to you.
"Well go along, break will be over soon enough. See you in class."
He walks down the hallway as Keith approaches you carefully as he enters from the other side of the nearby wall.
"You can stop you know. You always get in trouble for sticking with me. I'll understand." He says in a low voice looking down.
You, on the other hand, shoot your head up and quickly wrapping your arms around him surprising the young teen.
"Are you dumb?! I'd never leave you Keith! We'll go through thick and thin together remember?! If anything, you might be the one leaving me! You move too fast you might just leave me behind!" you exclaim while squeezing him tighter fully aware of the growing blush on your face.
He lightly laughs before wrapping his arms around your smaller frame squeezing you just as tight.
"Don't worry (y/n), I don't plan on it."
You refuse to let him go as you don't want him to see your red face, not knowing that he hasn't let go for the same reason.
--
As you both got older, around the disappearance of Shiro, Keith gets expelled, but the both of you still manage to keep in touch seeing as you frequently sneak out.
"Why don't you two go ahead? I was just about to get some shut-eye, so tell me how it goes tomorrow okay?"
Yes, sleep would be pretty nice, but in reality, you needed them to get out of here so you can find Keith.
Please say okay, please say okay, please say okay.
Scrunching his eyebrows, Lance denies your request, "What? No! You're part of the team, we need you there!"
'Damn it.'
--
Before you know it, you find yourself on the roof checking out Pidge's equipment.
"Stop touching my equipment!"
You and Hunk pouted.
--
Now, you find yourself and the other three spying on an alien ship on a small ledge after hearing the emergency lockdown announcement at the Garrison.
You blinked.
"Hmm hey, Lance?"
"Yes (y/n)?"
"Why the hell are we here?"
Lance stopped looking through the binoculars to look up at you.
"We need to find out what's going on! But we'll never get past those guards to take a look."
Pidge types away on his computer.
Hunk sighs, "Aww yeah, I guess there's nothing else but to get back to the barracks right?" and he gets up from his crouching position and starts to leave.
'Good idea Hunk.'
As you yourself start to head back, Pidge speaks up.
"Wait they set up a camera in there and I picked up its feed. Look."
The three of you gather around Pidge, only for your breath to hitch and for tears to start gathering in the corner of your eyes.
'Shiro?'
You think back to Keith's message.
"I think we might actually find something this time, I can feel it."
'Damn it, I hate it when he's right. I need to text Keith.'
You snap back into reality to dig through your bag only to hear Lance say, "No, what we need is a distraction."
As if on cue, a series of explosions go off in the distance.
'Oh no Keith I swear to God.'
"Ahh are those the aliens?! Are they here?! They got here so quick!"
Hunk continues to freak out, but Pidge interrupts him.
"No, those explosions were a distraction! For him. The Garrison is heading towards the blast, while he's sneaking through the other side!"
You could recognize that red hoverbike anywhere.
So, you quickly make your way down the small ledge ignoring the shouts of your friends.
"(y/n)! Wait! Oh that guy is always trying to one-up me!"
Lance quickly runs after you.
"Who is it?" Hunk asks.
"Keith!"
"What?! Are you sure?!" Hunk is quick on Lance's heels.
By now, you're way ahead of the three.
"Who?!" Pidge questions.
"(y/n)'s boyfriend!"
But not far enough to not hear that.
"I heard that Lance!"
--
(y/n's) Mental Bullshit Checklist
Find your lost brother figure✔️
Get chased by the Garrison✔️
Realize that your bestest friend might be mad and hurt because of you✔️
Today is just not your day.
*A few minutes prior*
"Nope, no, n-n-no no you don't. I'm saving Shiro."
As Lance makes his way over to Keith and Shiro, you find yourself locking your (e/c) eyes with Keith's purple ones.
His eyes widened, not noticing Lance taking Shiro's other arm.
'Wait. Is that a metal prosthetic?'
"(y/n)?"
Snapping back into reality, (you seem to be spacing out a lot recently) you try and wrap yourself around this delicate situation.
Keith thinks you abandoned him on something that means a lot to him.
Keith is possibly mad at you.
Keith finds Shiro only for you, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge to barge in.
Keith might be thinking you left him alone for those three.
Keith looks hurt.
Your already teary eyes soften along with your voice, "Keith I-", only to get cut off by Keith himself.
"Who are you?" he quetions looking at Lance.
'Ouch.'
'I guess I deserved that.'
"Who am I? Uhh the name's Lance?"
Lance blinks waiting for Keith to recognize him. When he doesn't he speaks again.
"Uhh we were in the same class in the Garrison."
Keith still not recognizing him asks, "Really? Were you an engineer?"
Lance tired of his confusion clarifies, "What no. I'm a pilot. We were like rivals. You know, Lance and Keith neck and neck, and with (y/n) breaking up all our fights."
You deadpan at the brown-haired boy.
'Does he mean those petty fights where Keith doesn't acknowledge him, and I end up dragging him away?'
As if suddenly remembering, Keith says, "Oh wait I remember you. You're a cargo pilot."
"Well not anymore, I'm fighter class now thanks to you washing out."
Keith being Keith sarcastically congratulates him.
"Seriously, how are you (y/n)'s bestest friend?! You don't even know anything about her other best friends? And what's with the attitude?! I swear! I always tell her to stay away! You're a bad influence on her!"
You warn the blue-eyed boy, "Lance..."
"What?! I'm just trying to look out for you!"
*Flashback end*
Now, the five of you along with an unconscious Shiro are all on Keith's red hoverbike with the Garrison hot your trail.
Keith's driving, you're behind him, behind you is Lance, the Pidge and Shiro, and finally Hunk in the back.
Hunk's panicky voice carries through the air, "Oh man, Mr. Harris just wiped out Mr. Montgomery! No no, he's fine."
Keith speaks to you without looking back, "(y/n) hold on."
You quickly wrap your arms around his masculine chest.
'At least he isn't that mad to ignore me completely.'
"Big man lean right!"
Hunk quickly listens and leans right guiding the overworked machine to the right making it jump to another rock structure. That maneuver efficiently stops one of the two Garrison vehicles chasing you.
Your heart is pounding realizing that you're all heading towards a cliff.
"Uhh guys?!" Hunk promptly points out what you've just been dreading. "Is that a cliff up ahead?!"
You hear the screaming of your teammates behind you and Keith leans forward forcing you to do the same. He grips and twists the handlebars making the bike speed up while confirming Hunk's question.
"Yup."
You don't even have to look at him to know he has that hot stupid smirk on his face.
'Damn it. My heart just skipped a beat, and it's not because we're falling off a cliff.'
Lance continues to scream at Keith.
"What are you doing?! You're gonna kill us all!!"
Not giving Keith the time to respond, you answer Lance with your own yell while squeezing your eyes shut and squeezing Keith even tighter.
"Lance just shut up and trust him!"
Smoothly maneuvering his bike, Keith "lands" back on solid ground and zooms away.
You guys were alive.
Barely.
But that's beside the point.
(y/n's) Mental Bullshit Checklist
Save Shiro✔️
Almost get caught by the Garrison✔️
Almost die falling off a cliff✔️
Feel Keith's masculine chest✔️
--
You, Shiro, and Keith look at the sky as the sun begins to rise.
Once again, you blank out as you try to wrap your head around what had happened in the past few hours, missing Shiro and Keith's conversation and Shiro calling out your name.
"(-/n)"
"(y/n)"
"(y/n)!"
A sudden shake of your shoulder snapped you back into reality, making you turn your head towards Shiro who was looking at you worriedly and Keith who was looking down and his feet.
'Ah.'
'He's still upset.'
"Are you feeling okay (y/n)?" Shiro asks worriedly.
You look up at him, with a smile on your face and you cheerfully answer his question.
"Ahh Shiro, you haven't changed, always acting like a dad huh? If anything I should be asking you that question!"
His face showed mild surprise but then he chuckled and ruffled your hair making you squeal.
"You haven't changed much either (y/n). I'll be heading inside, are you two okay out here or are you gonna follow?"
Once again your focus falls on the rising sun.
"Nah, I think I'll just stay here for a bit longer. I can meet you guys in there a bit later."
"Okay, just be careful. You Keith?"
"I think I'll stay here a bit longer too. You can go meet up with the others."
You inwardly flinched. The two of you were going to be alone.
"Alright, I'll head back inside."
Now, it was just the two of you.
A light breeze past by, and you shivered. It was only then you realized you didn't have a jacket.
'I guess I didn't realize it was cold with everything going on.'
Your thoughts were once more interrupted by something getting draped around your shoulders.
Your eyes widened and you look over your shoulder to see Keith looking away from you now only in his black v-neck shirt.
You bashfully look away as you hold the collar of his jacket close so it stays on your shoulders, with your left arm hugging your body to keep the warmth. You mutter a quiet thanks only to have been met with silence.
It was like that for a while, until you couldn't help but speak.
"Keith I can-"
"Why were you with them?"
With your body now turned as to get a good look at him, you frowned as you process his question and because he still wouldn't look at you.
"Keith, they're my team, even if I didn't want to, I'd still go anyway. They're my best friends Keith you have to understa-"
"Are we not a team? Are we not best friends?"
You visibly irk as you get interrupted yet again.
"I never said that."
"You were thinking it."
"Dammit Keith! Let me talk!"
The purple-eyed boy finally turns to look at you with an agitated look on his face.
"Why should I?! You'll just leave like how everyone else did! It won't matter."
Frankly, you were hurt. Did he really think that you'd just leave him after years of memories and a childhood of growing up alongside each other? But, you understood why he was so upset. He was scared.
Not wanting to lose your childhood friend and your first love, you try and defuse the situation.
"Keith, I understand why you're so agitated right now, it's okay, I understand, I know-"
"Know what (y/n)?! You know nothing! You don't know anything! You don't understand anything!"
It's a good thing the both of you were at a far enough distance away from his shack.
He slowly walks towards you waving around his hands and arms to show how agitated he really was.
"What made you think you knew anything?!"
"Our friendship! Our trust! Our bond! Our everything Keith! Did any of that even matter to you?!"
"I don't think it mattered to you! If it did, you wouldn't have abandoned me! Especially since this was important to me!"
You couldn't believe your damn ears. You scoffed before yelling back, not caring about the tears starting to fall.
"I didn't fucking abandon you Keith! And don't you dare think that this thing was only important to you! Shiro means just as much to me and much as he does to you!"
"Then why the hell did you not show up?!"
"For God's sake, I was sleeping! Call it a lame excuse I don't care! Keith, I'm tired. Every single fucking day we're out till fucking daybreak. On top of that, I have class! I have training! It's fine for you because you don't even go to school anymore! You can sleep all day then explore all night! Me? I run every single day with less than four hours of sleep. It's a fucking blessing to even get one. I understand that you're scared! Cause I am too! We grew up together Keith! Do you know how devastated and worried I was after you got expelled?! I thought that was the end for us! Here you are yapping that you have it rough, that I abandoned you, and some other bullshit while I have it just as bad!"
Your voice was raw and cracking, tears streaming down your face, eyes starting to puff up, but at this point you didn't care. You didn't care if the others could hear you, you didn't care that Keith stopped yelling, you didn't care that his eyes finally softened and weren't sharp and spiteful anymore, you didn't care.
You didn't care because you felt your heart break. You want him to know. You want him to know how much you struggle every day, but most of all you want him to know how much you cared. You want him to know how much you care for him even if he doesn't really understand right now, even if he doesn't care for you as much as you do you, or if he doesn't care for you the way you want him to. You wanted him to know that you loved him. Him and only him. Even at the risk of rejection.
"(y/n)..."
"No! I listened to you, now you listen to me Keith Kogane! I understand that I hurt you! I understand that you have trust issues and that you don't want anyone to get too close only for them to leave, I understand! You don't want me to be another repeat of the people in the past; your mom, your dad, Shiro! I understand more than you think! I care about you so much so Keith...please."
At this point, Keith looked like he was going to cry too, and Keith never cries in front of you anymore.
"(Y-y/n) I-I didn't know. I-I'm sor-"
You stop him right there.
"Keith, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn't know cause I didn't tell you, I never wanted to tell you but but oh my God fuck. Keith, it's because I love you!"
There. It's out in the open. No going back now.
"I love you more than friends, more than best friends, more than siblings, Keith I love you with all of my heart! And it hurts so much seeing you like this. I don't need you to love me back, what I need you to do is to trust me. To trust me with everything you've got because there's no way in hell I'm going to get up and walk away from your life. I will always be there for you. I'm your best friend. Through thick and remember?"
You're choking on your own words, and your voice trembled with every other word you've said but it doesn't matter now. You did it. You confessed. Maybe now, your heart can be at peace.
You look up at the boy you've grown to love and you take a good look at him. His long dark locks, his captivating purple eyes, everything.
You take a good look because you believe that this is going to be the last good one you'll have. The last one before he'll shy away from you. But that's okay. It's okay because you'll always be there for him even if he won't be there for you.
You remove his jacket from your shoulders and gently take his hands placing the jacket into them. You feel his eyes on you and you look up at him placing a gentle smile on your features. You watch as his tear-streaked face looks at yours with so many emotions. More emotions than you've ever seen on him.
Your hands never left his and with one last act of bravery, you lean up and kiss his cheek.
You gently pull your hands out of his, and turn towards his shack.
You turn around and bravely smile at him and say, "I'll be heading back inside now okay? If you need anything, you know who to find."
You turn back around and you slowly walk away with one of your hands covering your mouth to cover up your soft sobs. You just really wanted a hug, and you plan on getting four big ones.
As for Keith, Keith can't seem to move.
Don't get mixed up, no no he isn't frozen because he couldn't believe his best friend just confessed to him.
Well actually that was one of the reasons, but that's not important right now.
Your confession and love? Oh boy, he thought that was only a crazy, hopeless dream. Something that he could've never thought would happen.
Let's face it, the boy's in love with you.
Head over heels really.
How could he not be?
You were a godsend in his eyes. You were kind to basically person that you've met, you're compassionate, you're intelligent, and so much more. Your good looks were only a bonus. And one of the most important things was that you were always there.
You were there to defend him, you were there to comfort him, you there to just be with him.
You were always there. You were there when he cried over his mom, you were there when his dad died, you were there when he found out about Shiro. You were right, the two of you went through thick and thin.
Getting back to the point, he couldn't seem to move was because he hurt you.
Yes, Keith can be an ass, but he's always made sure not to accidentally hurt you in any way shape, or form, but he did.
Seeing you with Lance, Hunk, and Pidge hurt. It stung like hell, but after what just happened, he knowing what he just did hurt far worse, but it hurt just a little bit more realizing that you would've probably planned on not letting him know about your struggles and pain ever. But, something changed, something changed your mind, so you told him.
Just like you wanted, you put your feelings and inner turmoils out in the open, and now he knows.
Seeing you standing there, pouring your feelings out to him voice raw and filled with emotions tears rapidly falling down your face, your trembling body, it, it was just too much for him.
And after you said that if he needed something, anything, he could go find you; it made him realize how he truly doesn't deserve you.
Yes, he has thought of it before. He can't help it with what seems like every single person in existence telling you that he's bad news or their doubts of him, and with his own insecurities. Truth be told, their words always end up right back into his head, no matter how long it's been.
"Stay away from Kogane"
"Don't get mixed up with that troublemaker."
'You don't deserve her.'
"(y/n) is that guy really your friend? He seems like he's a cold person."
"(y/n) that guy is trouble! Why do you hang out with him?!"
'She's too good for you.'
"Seriously, how are you (y/n)'s bestest friend?!"
"I always tell her to stay away! You're a bad influence on her!"
But even with all those words meant to scare you away, you stayed. He couldn't help but remember the words you told him long ago.
"Are you dumb?! I'd never leave you Keith! We'll go through thick and thin together remember?!"
It was then when Keith made his decision.
--
You were almost at the front door. Surprisingly not one of the four boys three actually, but you didn't know that yet checked outside after all that yelling. Not like they heard any of it
You were lost in your thoughts. Thoughts about Keith, your past, your pain, who would give the most comforting hug right now probably Hunk when someone I wonder who it could be grabbed your wrist and tugged you back so you would be facing him.
Knowing who it was you kept your eyes shut as if you didn't, you knew you were going to cry.
But Keith was stubborn. You of all people know that better than anyone.
"(y/n) look at me."
Keith was stubborn but it didn't mean that you weren't too.
Keith's voice cracked.
"(y/n) please."
Your resolve wavered, and it seems your hesitation was obvious as Keith softly spoke, "You don't have to say anything, I just want you to hear what I have to say."
You hesitantly opened your eyes and you could already feel your eyes watering again.
Keith's entire being seemed to deflate soften at your state.
"Okay, I know I don't deserve you, much less deserve you taking your time to listen to me right now but I just want you to know that I love you."
Your eyes widened. You weren't sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn't that.
"Keith, if you're just saying that to-"
"(n/n) I promise you that I'm not just saying it because you said it to me. I'm saying it because I truly do love you."
Your voice was stuck in your throat and you gently shake off his hold on your wrist. You opt for wrapping your arms around yourself.
Your glassy eyes showed confusion and panic.
"I-I don't understand," you shakily argued.
"(y/n) you've always been there for me and that's something I will always be grateful for, and it's one of the many reasons why I fell for you."
You didn't respond. Instead, you continued to listen to him. You listened to him because he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. Even Keith was surprised by his own actions. Yes, times and times again has this broken boy show you his vulnerability, but he always made the effort to do so in a private setting.
Not right outside his door with his brother figure and three strangers waiting for him inside.
Keith gently tilts his head, "(y/n)..."
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
You softly gasped, not expecting the purple-eyed boy to give you his thanks.
From your angle you see a small smile on the boy's face which make your eyes water even more than they already have and your tears once again fall down your face, but at a slower speed.
"I will always appreciate you, and I will always be grateful for all the things you've done for me growing up. I love you. I love you so much, but I'm so sorry that I've been hurting you all this time. I understand if you'd rather go out with Lance seeing as he looks out for you-"
You cut him off with a tight hug that is filled to the brim with love, affection, and warmth. So much warmth. Keith is remain frozen not knowing what to do.
He wants to hug you so badly, but remains from doing so because he doesn't want to hurt you again, but he hears you mumble something that gives him so much reassurance, so much that he forgets all about his insecurities involving you.
"It's okay, Keith. We're okay."
With that, Keith's eyes start to glisten and he gives in and just lets go of reality for a moment to hug you. To hug you and let his tears fall because he knows he's safe with you.
That you are his home and he is yours in return.
--
(y/n's) Mental Bullshit Checklist
Release and spill all your feeling onto best friend✔️
Act like a crybaby in front of your best friend✔️
Confess to your best friend✔️
Think you get rejected by best friend✔️
Find out your feelings are reciprocated ✔️
--
omake!! :D
"Are you two getting inside or not?! We kinda have an alien problem on our hands!!"
You and Keith jolt out of your hug not expecting to be interrupted by your team pilot at such a vulnerable bonding moment. The both of you turn your heads to see Lance sticking himself out the window shaking his fist into the air as if he was an old geezer yelling at little kids to get off his lawn.
You see Keith visibly irk and you sweat drop seeing Lance duck back inside closing the window letting out a small shriek.
"Remind me to stab him later."
You look up at the boy who's still glaring at the now closed window and softly chuckle before letting out a small "don't" but a teeny weensy small side of you secretly not minding the planned assault.
You hoped Lance knew how dodge.
--
#holy shit i wrote this such a long time ago#i hope this doesn't flop#voltron#voltron legendary defenders#vld#voltron x reader#keith kogane#keith x reader#keith kogane x reader#x reader#reader insert#female reader#fanfiction#one shot#fluff#angst#keith angst#keith fluff#voltron imagine#voltron scenario#star writes!
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇𝓎 | after an anxiety episode, you and ari make cookies together.
𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 | steamy angsty fluff!
𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 | daddy!ari levinson × black//woc!reader
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 | 4.3K
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | 18+ ddlg! ♡ anxiety attack ♡ some sexual themes ♡ degradation ♡ dick jokes ♡ hints to smut but nothing else! ♡ this is all 100% concentrated fluff
𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓉𝓈 | love language by ariana grande ♡ tuxedo junction by glenn miller ♡
𝓌. 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 | okay so i tried okay i tried to make it as fluffy as i can but i just couldn’t help to not lace my own school circumstances into this while writing :( i can’t believe I got this out in just a day but i hope y’all enjoy this cherubs!!! ♡ do not repost or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or plagiarize my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡
♡ the sight of the tiny blue ‘submit’ button at the bottom of the screen increased the swirling thoughts as your eyes turned to the ticking clock at the bottom right of the computer screen.
♡ you don’t take a second to breathe but anxiously bite the flesh of your lower lip, this week long project was coming to a crashing deadline as it was due in just a minute from now.
♡ how have you gotten yourself in this distressful circumstance?
♡ well typical clumsy you blacked out in a power nap for the past hours when you thought you submitted the assignment while waiting for your friend to do the touch ups of her portion of the assignment worth one-third of your semester grade.
♡ waking up from the long nap felt like cloudy heaven, mind finally relaxed accompanied with the delicious looseness of your energized limbs as you stretched them.
♡ of course the rosy moment was quickly diminished when you reached for your phone at your side table, hoping to catch up on any recent news you missed out from your nap.
♡ and you had as you skimmed through each and every exhilarating and restless text from your friend who apparently got a message from both your professor that the assignment wasn’t turned in.
♡ your mind raced as you quickly opened your laptop, tracing through your emails you eye the message from your professor that was outlined in red.
♡ the simple sentence of: this assignment affects your semester grade, turn it in before the deadline.
♡ had your widening eyes taking the email in, your mind flashed through the memory when you strictly remembered that you clicked the submit button.
♡ you know you did, you fucking know it but here you are anxiously rushing to submit it again.
♡ but at this point it doesn’t matter because you are now seconds away from turning it in before the whole portion of the google classroom submission turns grey.
♡ gathering the link to the word document that held your assignment the beating in your chest was beginning to level once your hand dragged the mouse pad cursor to the little blue button.
♡ rechecking the links you don’t dare take an inhale until your painted cherry red index finger clicks down hard on the submit button, eyes widening and heart pounding when the little loading circle appears.
♡ “c’mon!” your hushed whisper stresses, your hands forming into tight fists that rest onto the warm plushness of your thighs your skirt didn’t cover.
♡ uneasy eyes flash to the clock onto your macbook and notice the white font against the black outline displaying 11:59, you let out a closed lip whine when the loading whirlpool doesn’t go away and the bold purple words of ‘submitted!’ don’t appear on your screen.
♡ however, with whatever saving grace and golden strand of luck that was fortunately bestowed on you, that easing message appeared seconds away from the striking hour of midnight.
♡ letting out a relieved sigh your head falls back as you closed and rubbed your eyes, your cold fingertips attempting to cool your racing head you move them away from your face when your phone tings.
♡ grabbing your phone that was thrown in your blitzing uneasiness minutes ago the sight of your friends name appears on your lockscreen, under it holds their message.
♡ please [y/n] tell me you turned it in.
♡ you unlock your phone and message them back, informing them that you have turned it in which you received the same relieved feedback that coursed through your mind a minute ago.
♡ closing off the conversation with a comment of speaking to them tomorrow you shut off your phone and closed your macbook, setting them both on their individual chargers before walking out of your room.
♡ you can hear the light jazz of glenn millers ‘tuxedo junction’ fuzz through the halls, the pinkness of your socks that cover your feet guide you to where the music gets stronger and stronger.
♡ ari’s office door is slightly cracked, the music bustling inside it flowing out into the hallway you step closer and peek your eye through the crack.
♡ there you see your lover, sitting at his polished desk, a cigarette in hand he puffs it as his spectacle eyes glance down at the papers that lie in front of him, an ink pen in his other grasp writes down what he needs to.
♡ glancing down you notice his feet tapping against the carpet to the suave rhythm of the jazz blasting on a small speaker at the corner near his numerous chestnut bookshelves and flourishing green potted plants.
♡ taking a deep inhale of the cigar the white smoke that slips through his lips looks like a soft cotton cloud, your heart jumps to an opportunity when his hand that holds his pen stops writing.
♡ his eyes skimming through his papers as his fingers adjust the glasses on the bridge of his nose, setting down his burning thick cigar on the ashtray near him as well.
♡ fingers framing the sides of his bearded cheeks, your lover reads his written work with a careful eye, foot continuing to tap as the beat enters into its main rowdy trumpet chorus.
♡ pink tongue gliding against his rosy lips, his eyes shine and with that he takes the papers in both his hands and evens them out, grabbing the stapler that’s set near his neatly arranged pens he clicks the thick papers together.
♡ grabbing a navy blue folder he sets the papers in it and opens one of his desk drawers before setting his paperwork amongst his other files, shutting it closed his fingers grab his cigar that is still burning.
♡ taking it back between his lips your eyes don’t leave them, you never wanted to be that cigar so badly, your heart skips a beat when ari’s yes set against yours, a smirk peeking his tobacco smoked lips you let out a hushed ‘eep’ and back away from the door.
♡ you hear ari’s deep chuckle from in his office, causing your face to heat up and limbs to go stiff in embarrassment, peeking your face again through the doors crack your eyes set back on ari’s amused smirk and you gasp and move your head away.
♡ ari let out a airy laugh, oh he was enjoying your flustered state, he always found it so cute when he caught you staring at him.
♡ “come in princess,” he spoke.
♡ smirk still plastered on his lips he exhales another white smoky cloud before putting out the thick cigar, not wanting you to inhale any of the fumes.
♡ hears the door open, eyeing your shy figure walking to him growing confident with each step.
♡ your hips, legs and shoulders dance along the jazzy miller piece, making his smirk widen as you sway and swing your body to emphasize your pronounced curves that hide in your thick collared sweater and tennis skirt.
♡ he can’t snatch his eyes away from your soft thighs that aren’t properly covered from that ridiculously short skirt, his eyes darken when he sees your fingers unbuttoning the buttons of the top portion of the designer sweatshirt.
♡ your hands do a sinister job at gliding up your curves slowly, teasingly rising the hem of your flowy skirt before gripping the bottom of your unbuttoned canary yellow sweatshirt.
♡ pulling it off your bodice and over your head you throw it behind you to reveal the crop top that tightly wraps your chest, displaying your plump cleavage ari’s darken eyes latch upon.
♡ “hi daddy,” you speak through your glossed lips and batting lashes, stepping around to stand besides his figure sitting in his leather swivel chair.
♡ those honeyed words are spoken in an almost purr, your eyes skimming his face and to the objects that cover his desk your curious fingertips and cherry painted acrylics graze and clack against.
♡ the image of his dark eyes sparkle when they meet yours, they glimmer in adoration as one of his large warm hands rise to cup your cheek.
♡ “hello princess,” the deepness of his words has your chest fluttering and the heat of your core radiating sensually, your eyes leave his and your lips press against each other abashed.
♡ his smirk turns into a soft smile, how can his little pearl be so bold yet shy at the same time?
♡ whatever it is about you he savors and cherishes, his hand that cups your chin is removed to pat down on his trouser thigh but maybe he thinks otherwise on the known signal that you're a bit to latched on the mood and want him to take over whatever thick sexual tension he started.
♡ however he’s surprised as his little shy pearl wraps her arms around his neck, pedicured fingers lacing in his shoulder length hair as soft legs smoothly straddle his lap, it made it all easier that they were parted slightly as you settled your bum against his calves.
♡ took him by another surprise as you smashed your bubblegum glossed lips against his, rubbing your chest against his as your tongue slipped into his mouth.
♡ you usually don’t kiss him like this after he had a cigar but ari isn’t complaining as he swirls his tongue with yours, his large hands travel down to cup your bum to find a nice surprise which results in his pants tightening more against his thick bulge.
♡ your shameless skirt doesn’t even cover your ass properly, the fringed designer cloths trimming curtains the curve of your ass but leaves the plump dips of your under cheeks uncovered for his rough palms to smooth and grope.
♡ you moan against his lips but that soft moans turns into a pitched whine as he releases his lips from your erotic mouth, in result he lightly slaps your ass before groping the flesh.
♡ “how was your nap sleeping beauty?” ari’s voice low and raspy at the cause of your kiss, you sigh and bow your head at remembering the thought.
♡ “it was nice daddy but it turned a little rotten after,” your pout causes his brows to scrunch.
♡ “why’s that princess?” his hands smooth and pat your hair still slightly untamed from your nap, your hands that grip his expansive button up smooth the material down.
♡ “because I had to rush to turn in an assignment I thought I turned in, it was so stressful finding out from my friend who thankfully reminded me of so,” you mutter, your mood becoming spoiled when remembering school.
♡ nowadays you barely enjoyed your time with your daddy without worrying about any uncompleted assignments or the thought of your grades dropping or being fully invested in studying.
♡ school was a killjoy, it was killing your special time with your daddy and even though you still turned in that project your mind still was filled with anxiety and stress.
♡ “have you turned in your assignment doll?” ari spoke and you nodded your head, calming a bit as his hand rubs your back up and down, the sensation almost therapeutic. “then what is my princess worrying about?”
♡ your pout signifies it all, you don’t know what your stressing about, maybe you forgot another assignment that needed to be turned in, maybe you forgot to study for a test that was nearing soon, maybe you missed a virtual class during your nap.
♡ your eyes water and your bottom lip trembles, the grip you have on his button up tightens with your fear-riddled scrunch, your breathing stuttering which has ari sitting up to grab your face in his hands.
♡ “hey, hey. baby calm down-,” but your breathing still stutters as your face scrunches and streams in your aggressive tameless tears.
♡ “baby, sweetheart look at me!” his voice snaps to your attention as your red eyes meet soothing aqua pools, hands gripping his shoulders and teary eyes locked in need to keep him close but he seems like an ocean away.
♡ “count with me baby, like we practiced before. inhale-” he says, inhaling a breath and your stuttering lungs are quick to inhale a breath along with him, your mind however races still. “exhale,” he whispers and lets out a breath and you do so.
♡ “one,” you two continued this breathing session till your tears stopped and your pacing chest settled calmly against his, the only sound being the soft trumpet of another jazz song playing and your soft sniffs.
♡ his arms cage you in a warm secure hug, hands rubbing soothing circles against your back as your open hands rest against his chest, he had you drink a glass of water with a tylenol tablet to ease you.
♡ yet your silence is a major tell to ari that your mind is still scrambling despite feeling your stable heartbeat against his, he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.
♡ “[y/n]? princess?” ari softly speaks, your eyes slightly sting from your vicarious crying and your head aches from the episode that happened a while ago, cheeks slightly damped, you raise your hands to wipe them dry.
♡ pulling your head away from his collar bones you sit up to meet his reassured glance to yours, “i’m sorry daddy,” you spoke, it was almost drenched in seeking forgiveness but ari shove his head while cupping your face in his hands again pulling your face to his.
♡ “no sweetheart don’t apologize, it’s all alright. something like this shouldn’t need an apology, you aren’t at any fault because you’ve done nothing wrong but let out your emotions.” your eyes watered with his comforting words.
♡ “it’s not the things that are stressing you that are bothering you, it’s just the thought. it’s just your thoughts, just and only your thoughts but you got through that so well princess. i’m so proud of you.” ari’s thumbs swiped away at each of your tears, your lips slowly curling up in a small smile at his praise.
♡ sitting up on your knees you rested your forehead against his, nose bumping against his you giggled as our daddy’s eyes squinted at the impact before letting out a soft chuckle,
♡ your eyes glimmering as they twined to ari’s cooling blue hues through his frameless thin glasses, your hands rise up to caress his bearded cheeks, his finely soft hairs tenderly scratch your fingers and palms while his rub your bare lower back.
♡ an equally tender smile radiates off both of you before he pecks your lips to his.
♡ “tell me princess, tell daddy what you want. anything you want you’re getting,” his words string together a thoughtful expression compressed on your pretty facial features, your stomach interrupts you both as it loudly growls.
♡ “clever princess, you didn’t have to tell daddy when he could hear your hungry tummy,” ari’s own comment makes him laugh loudly and your face heats up as you swat his chest.
♡ “stop being mean daddy,” you grumble with a pout but you still see that handsome smirk against his face and as much as you wanna turn your head away when he grabs your chin you allow him to kiss you.
♡ “alright daddy’s done with being a meanie. c’mon sweetheart, lets get some food inside that tummy,” he says poking your belly.
♡ the tickling sensation lets out a giggle from you while he grabs your body to wrap your legs around his waist as he gets off his seat.
♡ ari carries you out of his office to the kitchen, setting you down on the lavish island that stands in the large kitchen however you whine when the cold surface hits your back thighs.
♡ the little sound alerts ari who turns his head to you after searching the refrigerator for some ingredients to create a suitable meal for you.
♡ “oh right, sorry princess,” he says and carries you to a cushioned chair near the dinner table, of course you could jump off the counter and walk to the seat yourself but you both like it when he babied you.
♡ after just a minute of searching through the refrigerator he closes his with a sigh, “do you wanna order something sugarplum?” he said and you smiled and nodded your head.
♡ “yes daddy,” you spoke and his chest hums in glee seeing your joy laced in your voice, he allowed you to order whatever food you wanted on your food delivery app since he wasn’t an expert at those things.
♡ a thing about ari is that he was so old fashioned, he didn’t have a computer to organize all his files because he had numerous drawers and file cabinets to keep all his important documents.
♡ his portable device was a flip phone and as much as you teased him for it he didn’t bulge at taking interest in any technological advances to his life.
♡ “is that all you want sweetheart? you don’t want anything else for the night?” ari spoke as he poured you a glass of ice cubed strawberry mint water from a glass pitcher, setting the cup in front of you as you scrolled through your phones feed.
♡ you smile up at him as you take the glass, “can we make cookies?” you ask before raising the glasses rim to your lips and taking a sip of the cold minty berry water.
♡ “didn’t you order a dessert on the app?” he asked and you shook your head no, the dessert options the restaurant of your choice didn’t really have anything that sparked interest to your midnight cravings.
♡ “don’t you think it’s a bit late to bust open the flour and sugar baby?” he said and a naughty smile grazes your lips at his question.
♡ “daddy it’s never too late to bust open anything if you put your mind to it,” your smooth voice spoke as you got off your seat to walk to the refrigerator, possessing a bit of flounce to your hips.
♡ you opened the stainless steel door handle and grabbed the large bar of nestle tollhouse cookie dough, closing the door behind you you walk to the island and place it in front of ari.
♡ if you both weren't doing it from scratch then this was the only option.
♡ he still stares down at it while you prepare the oven to preheat, getting out the cooking spray, parchment and cookie tray, “what’s wrong daddy?”
♡ “that’s big baby,” he said, his eye’s proximate on how many chocolate chip cookies the large bar could make but he doesn’t notice the naughty smirk that crosses your lips again until his eyes move up towards yours.
♡ “I know daddy but it isn’t as big as you,” ari’s face blushes at those words but before he can recollect any thoughts or get his hands on your insatiable figure of your moving skirt turns away to grab a knife, diminishing all his thoughts he rushes to take it away from you.
♡ “daddy can do this part, you can roll the dough in balls. can you do that princess?” ari softly asks, cutting open the bar he cuts even slices then cuts the thick circular prism in half to have you roll them both into spheres.
♡ “of course daddy but only if you can let me lick yours after we’re done with this,” you say getting straight to work with rolling the cold dough in your palms but only after brushing your ass against his thigh.
♡ ari couldn’t help his face from flushing into a crimson rose, feeling his pants tightening around his hardening erection at your shameless proclamations and actions.
♡ but it didn’t have him distracted from the task at hand or from quickly smacking your ass, commanding you to behave for him.
♡ and you did, kept your dirty remarks to yourself as you placed the spheres of cookie dough in a correct distance from each other in rows on the cookie tray.
♡ you both decided that ten cookies after a bit of a banter between you and him as you used your puppy eyes on him to make the whole tube but he set the discussion to an end with a compromise.
♡ the compromise being that he’d let you stay up and watch whatever movie you want with him as you had your take out and cookies, adding your additional requests to the compromise that there better be lots of cuddles and kisses.
♡ he slides your hot pink baking oven mitts with the mini stitched cupcakes on them and popped the cookie tray in the hot oven.
♡ turning to your figure sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the island setting the kitchen timer for twelve minutes and placing it down beside you.
♡ ari prepares the cooling rack and spatula for when the cookies are done, not noticing your neediness and attention seeking grabs at his collar and hair.
♡ “daddy,” you mutter, that bratty persona becoming clearer with each of your restless limbs and pouting lips attempting to grab his attention.
♡ “yes princess?” he spoke, his eyes moving towards yours to set sight of your signature doe eyes he knows so well.
♡ those doe eyes you give him when your bare and desperate underneath him.
♡ scratching crescent moons on his back, moaning so sweetly for him as he thrusts his cock in and out of your velvety pussy.
♡ you don’t say anything though, all you do is part your legs and his eyes darken once they set sight of your wet core open on display under your skirt.
♡ those same lust blown eyes dart down and meet your small peach colored panties crumbled on the floor underneath your dangling socked feet.
♡ before he can even do anything, before having the chance to rip that skirt off your body or getting on his knees and lick your tangy slicked folds the doorbell interrupts him.
♡ remembering your take-out, annoyance captivates ari but he smirks at the opportunity to tease you as you did him.
♡ so instead of ignoring the delivery person he walks away from your weeping cunt and gaped mouth to get the door.
♡ returning with your food and to your glossy pout your whines and grabs for him become more demanding and louder as he takes his sweet time taking each plastic take-out container and brown bag filled with food out of the delivery bag to the table.
♡ “daddy!” your bratty calls for him but he just ignores as he takes out plates and napkins for you and him, setting them to look their best on the dinner table.
♡ organizing the plastic containers and bags of food in between your plates he finally turns and walks to you, grabbing your waist you smirk thinking you got what you wanted but it disappears when the following words leave his mouth.
♡ “dinner time princess,” his smirk is more arrogant than yours and it only widens as you glare up at him, you’re so cute when you don’t get what you want.
♡ “you don’t want dinner princess?” he asked and you nodded your head, ari’s brow quirks in amusement.
♡ “then what do you want then princess?” it wasn’t a question, more so a demand to have the brat in his arms to speak on what she wants.
♡ you cross your arms and turn your head away from him, setting your angry sight on anything besides ari which he doesn’t permit as he grabs your jaw firmly in hands and shifts your sight to him.
♡ “speak up dolly. good girls get whatever they ask for, brats get nothing,” he spoke and your glare doesn’t ease one bit but your answer is mumbled to softly and lowly for ari to hear, your attitude only adding only the impatience ari has for you in this situation.
♡ “i’m sorry princess,” ari spoke before gripping your ass in a rough harsh handleful, “but daddy didn’t hear you. can daddy’s little dumb brat speak up? or does daddy have to give his dumb baby dinner and send her to bed with no cookies and cock?”
♡ the growl that rolled off his lips hit against the shell of your ear as his fingertips dig sharply into the raw warm plushness of your ass, your breath staggered but the wetness that pools your pleasure seeking core doesn’t lessen.
♡ “I want daddy please. please can I have it daddy?” you whimper, your voice meek and fragile and nothing like the cocky brat that teased him both verbally and physically moments ago.
♡ “you’ve been making jokes on daddy’s cock and balls since I let you make your cookies and now when you're on the receiving end of the joke you can’t properly tell daddy you want it?”
♡ his voice was rough and course, his hands that smack and grope your ass hold the same fierceness as he picks you up before slamming your back against the metal of the refrigerator.
♡ hearing the little breathy whine when his fingers purposely glide through your folds, his smirk darkens as your wetness coats his thick fingers.
♡ “oh, does my spoiled brat want daddy’s fingers? or does my spoiled brat want daddy’s cock?” he whispered as his head snakes in the crook of your neck.
♡ nibbling the tender skin under your ear that practically makes you cream against his stroking fingers.
♡ “I want your cock daddy! please, daddy! I need it!” your voice is a combination of whimpers and moans, the sound of it music to his ears.
♡ before he can give you another teasing stroke at your needy puffy folds, or command you to unbuckle his belt the timer for the cookies goes off.
♡ ari’s dark smirk shadows his face and you let out a whine knowingly the results of the night.
♡ it was going to take a while until you’ll get what you want and ari will partake in the satisfying discipline to teach you a lesson on misbehaving.
#♡ rosies mini headcannons ♡#♡ ari levinson ♡#ari levinson × reader#ari levinson × black!reader#ari levinson × woc!reader#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson fluff! ♡✨#ari levinson mini headcannon#chris evans headcannon#chris evans smut#ari levinson smut
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DICK GRAYSON WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME SOMEDAY AND I MEAN IT IN A LITERAL SENSE
So the context here is that I am sitting on my bed, my back to the door of my room and since I had just come back from a walk, the door was wide open. I opened the tumblr app on my phone and started scrolling through my dash, a batboys headcanon popped up in the recommendations and I usually scroll past it but nooo I just had to read through that one(I don't remember which one it was but it was hilarious)
Anywaysss my Dad got back from work early that day and he saw that my door was open and so he came inside and sat on my bed behind me(he does that sometimes when he's free and then we usually chat and have some funny conversations), okay so he sat behind me and at that point I moved on from Damian's headcanon to Dick's right? and I am soooo used to seeing the word Dick on my dash that I didn't give it a second thought that on top of my phone screen it's written in huge, bold capital letters 'DICK', unlike me my father just paused for a second and went like "What is this..."
I kid you not, I legit froze for a second like I full on crashed like a fucking computer with my internal monolog which went like "OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT!!!!!!"
I turn my face around with a calm expression on my face and just go like "it's...a...name" cue the confused face of him, so I clarified "name...of...a...character"
He then proceed to give me a very odd look and then he went away, probably to my brother's room but MAN I WAS SOOOOOOOOO SCARED FOR A SECOND AND I TEND TO FORGET DICK IS SOMETHING PEOPLE OUTSIDE THIS FANDOM ARE NOT USED TO LISTENING AAAAAHHHHHH
#this is the second time its happening#guys help#I'll be homeless one day if this keeps up😭#though its funny now that i think about it#random stuff#dick grayson#nightwing
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Moonlit ch.3
This is the third chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every two weeks. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.
3.4k words
previous chapter
This chapter was not read over by a beta reader, so if you notice any mistakes please let me know in a private message. If you are interested in reading my chapters early and having a hand in the editing process, please let me know via direct message :)
Charlie arrives home from the new doctors household in odd condition. Bella becomes acquainted with a new friend and gets her first driving lesson.
Chapter Three
There’s something oddly comforting about the loud, thunderous engine of my new truck. It successfully blocks out all the thoughts I hope to escape from, and it does so in a way that does not involve the incessant pattering of rain. In fact, it completely eliminates the sound of rain, a miracle I hadn’t thought possible. I can’t imagine I’ll ever manage to repay Jacob for this gift, it means so much more to me than a couple thousand dollars and a way to get around. It’s my escape.
Charlie had gotten back from the new doctor's household late last night, his eyes bleary with sleep and arms hanging limp by his sides in what can only be described as a dead mans walk. I was used to the posture he held, all slumped over and distracted, as if he had gone on a three day long bender and returned empty of adrenaline and a will to stay awake. Renee had come home from too many “spa-retreats'' with that same form. Dead mans walk, that’s what her friend had called it when I brought it up. “Dead on the outside but more alive than you’ve ever felt on the inside,” she had explained with a distant smile, “awful to watch but beautiful to live out.”
It was strange to see my father, the stoic police chief, in that position. Perhaps he enjoyed his time at the new doctors house more than he thought he would, perhaps he enjoyed it enough to come in looking prematurely hungover and drained of energy. I wonder if he was drinking, or dancing, or maybe the new family- I blink my eyes hard, squeezing out all the muted light coming from the kitchen window. Stars dance in front of my vision once I open them again. Don’t think of what Charlie was doing there, I tell myself viciously. Please, I add on as an afterthought, as though my subconscious was privy to social niceties.
The clock on the microwave reads noon hour and my heart stutters. Charlie is still upstairs, dead asleep. He’s the one that wakes me up in the morning, always dressed and with a cup of coffee. But, no, he’s probably just tired from his long shift yesterday and maybe a little hungover. Only a little. In fact, maybe less than a little, maybe he isn’t hungover at all.
Soon, by which I mean no less than two hours after my initial worry over my fathers condition, he emerges from his bedroom and I can hear his footsteps lead into the bathroom. Good, I think, he’s awake before three in the afternoon. That must count for something. Perhaps- My thoughts, aimlessly trying to convince my subconscious that there is no reason for me to worry about the state of my middle-aged father, are interrupted.
“Bella?” Charlie calls quietly from the top of the stairs. He sounds like he just woke up from a long night out. Hangover voice is something I am very familiar with, although not from first hand experience. Any solace I had reached seconds ago comes crashing down into a pile at my feet.
I clear my throat, “Down here!” He comes down, feet stepping lightly on each step so as to barely make a noise. He enters the kitchen with a weary look on his face, as if I’m the one acting out of character. “Yeah?”
“What are you doing up so early?” He asks incredulously. I look at the time in the bottom corner of my computer, nearly two in the afternoon. I look back up at him with my eyebrows pinched.
“Char- Dad, it’s after noon.” My fathers eyes go wide, the whites showing prominently before squeezing down into a harsh blink. He turns to the microwave and his eyes blink violently again. “Dad?”
He doesn’t say anything, but his hands come together at the top of his head, interlacing over the brown hair he passed onto me. “I- I’m getting to work. I’ll see you for dinner.” He mumbles his words, the syllables pouring out into the air without any order. He retreats back upstairs with little more than a squeak on the floorboards, his eyebrows thick over his eyes with worry. The shower turns on quickly and I look back to my computer screen. I have to do some school work, Charlie is a grown man who can take care of himself.
I brew him a fresh pot of coffee, putting the creamer out on the counter even though I know he takes it black.
One of my favourite things about Forks, besides my new truck, is the ever present gloom that seems to permeate any mood you had prior to stepping outdoors. It’s like living in a depressive gothic novel written in nineteenth century England. Obsessively torturing the protagonist with dramatic metaphors and the blatant use of personification with inanimate objects like lampshades and tea kettles. I walk outside and my brain fills with run-on sentences about the state of my personal emotional evolution or the true crime of humanity being the amount of introspection that we would require to understand it. Almost compulsively, I assess my morals and the ethical value of my actions as if the rain draws out my inner philosopher. It’s dramatic and moody and unpleasant to experience.
Yet, I find myself drawn into this trance of deep inner thought and revel in it.
This is what I am doing when I park outfront of The Diner and walk through the front doors. My mind is occupied with drawn out thoughts that sound closer to Shakespeare than a girl who is barely passing her summer courses. My footfalls seem to almost perfectly fall in tune with my thoughts. I wonder if I’m walking funny, I think suddenly with a pointed look at my awkward steps. This is an issue with spending so much time alone in such a gloomy town; you forget other people exist. I pick up the pace of my footfalls and try to let my legs work naturally, but now that I’m aware of my walking I am incapable of walking naturally and feel like an oaf.
It is while I am walking like an oaf that someone calls out, “Isabella Swan?” My shoulders tense up to my earlobes and suddenly my feet are capable of walking without direction and almost steer me back through the front doors. Instead, I look up from my rough boots and meet the smile of the girl standing behind the counter cutting the large room in half. I try to ignore the stares of the other patrons.
The girl standing behind the counter looks to be about twenty and has brown hair just past her shoulders, similar to mine except for the fact that hers is shiny with the indication of product and care. A wave of self consciousness rolls over my shoulders, my dull, limp hair is suddenly as bright as a neon sign in the dead of night. “Bella,” I correct her, forcing myself to step up to the counter. “Everybody calls me Bella.”
She nods knowingly, as if she’s heard this before but just wanted it confirmed. Another wave of self consciousness crashes over me as the possibility of small town gossip arises. Does everybody already know who I am? I don’t like the thought of Charlie telling the town his eccentric ex-wife's daughter is coming to live with him, even if he said it politely.
“Yeah, that makes sense. Isabella is kinda a mouthful and takes like three whole syllables just to say it.” She shoots a hand across the laminate countertop and exposes a line of white, straight teeth. “I’m Jessica, not Jess,” She clarifies with a sarcastic eye roll. I take her hand, warm and soft, in my own and give it a polite shake before letting go. “Nobody calls me Jess, it sounds like it’s short for Jessie and when I think Jessie I think either golden retriever or blonde surfer dude and I am so not either of those things.”
“Jessica’s pretty,” I say with possibly a little too much enthusiasm. I haven’t spoken to someone as bubbly as this girl since Phoenix and I am poorly out of practice.
“She is, isn’t she?” A male voice calls from my right. It’s as if Jessica had spoken it into existence, because suddenly a blond surfer dude- minus the surfer- is sitting only three stools over.
“No, no,” my face flames and I quickly raise my hands in surrender. “I meant her name.” Then, looking at Jessica I see she’s chewing on her bottom lip and her dark eyebrows are scrunched down. I wonder if she practiced this expression in the mirror, it looks too perfect to be impromptu. “I mean, not that you aren’t pretty,” I clarify and her eyebrows shoot up as the blonde boy snorts. “I mean-”
But Jessica raises a hand to stop me from torturing myself any further and drops the lip from between her teeth. “Listen, Bella, I know what you mean you don’t have to run in circles.” She says it in a way that insinuates I’m not the first person to fall into this situation with her. “You aren’t the first girl I’ve wooed with my tragically good looks.” This is not what I expected. The blonde boy snorts again but it sounds more like incredulity than a laugh. I open my mouth to interject, though I’m not sure what I will say, and Jessica widens her eyes at me. “Bella, girl, I’m joking.”
My mouth widens into an uncomfortable smile that likely looks closer to a grimace. She shakes her head at me with an expression that reads oh Bella even though we’ve only just met. I get the impression that Jessica is an easy person to be friends with and also decide that I will be coming to The Diner more often. “Now,” She says, “What did you order?”
I recite my order and she pushes open the swinging doors adorned with old license plates and bumper stickers to retrieve it.
“I’m Mike.” This is from the blonde boy, and he says it with a small wave that very much so indicates that he has lived in this town his whole life. People in big cities, people in Phoenix, don’t wave like that. It’s too small and kind and friendly, there isn’t enough neutrality for him to be from a big city. He’s inviting me into a conversation with the impression that I want to be invited. Small towns and sickly rom coms are the only places where this happens.
“Bella,” I respond, although he must already have heard me introduce myself to Jessica earlier. “It’s nice to meet you.” I tack on the last part in a likely failed attempt to come across as if I belong. It’s not that I want to be nice or friendly like Mike, it’s just that this will be far less awkward if I at least try to fit in.
“Likewise.” We lapse into a comfortable silence, or at least he appears to be comfortable in the silence. I am not. My blood seems to have congealed in my veins and is refusing to pump itself into my heart. Am I getting enough oxygen? Yes, yes, I am getting enough oxygen. I know this, but my body does not know this and so instead of trying to formulate some clever comment I try to level out my breathing and suck in as much as possible without seeming weird.
Three uneven breaths later and Jessica pushes out of the kitchen doors holding a large brown bag with a receipt stapled to the folded lip. She places it in front of me and I take a deep breath, suddenly grateful that my lungs are working and for the delicious smelling food. “I’ll pay with debit?” I don’t mean for it to sound like a question but it does. I can almost hear my mother scolding me, you need to be more assertive. You get stepped on if you’re too polite. I know she’s right but I ignore her anyway.
“No need, already paid for,” she says with a wide smile. “The cook says hi.” I take it, then, that the cook is the one who paid for my dinner.
“Oh, really that wasn’t necessary.” I produce my debit card from my pocket, holding it out as if it’s perfect evidence of my ability to pay. “I have money.”
“If you really wanna make it up to me I can take your number.” Renee would like Jessica, she’s assertive. I shake my head a little but still take out my phone and hand it to her. She punches in her number quickly, perfect nails tapping lightly on the screen before handing it back. Her own phone beeps. “Have a nice night, Bella! Text me whenever.”
I say goodbye to Mike and he waves kindly, almost immediately afterwards turning to talk to Jessica. They wave as I leave and I can feel the eyes of The Diner on my back as I leave the building and enter my truck.
It’s almost two days until I get a chance to talk with my mother, and within those days I accomplish more than one would expect of a girl who is so well acquainted with procrastination. Namely, I received a text message from Jessica. We conversed lightly, her with heavy use of emojis and me with improper use of punctuation and perhaps not enough enthusiasm. I know this because almost immediately after I send her my reaction to a movie she watched she calls me.
“Bella,” she says in a tone that insinuates both exasperation and light humour. “I swear, girl, you are so hard to read.”
“I know, my grammar-”
“No, no,” she cuts me off. “I mean I have no idea if you even wanna talk to me or not.” I’m shocked into silence, of course I want to talk to her. I enjoy talking to her. It seems I’ve been severely lacking in the friends department and it’s no recent issue. Ever since Phoenix I’ve remained forcibly independent, it’s nice to have people my age to talk to.
“I- I can use more emojis?” It comes out a question and my mother is back in my head, assertive assertive assertive. Jessica gives a triumphant laugh and I get the impression that this was her goal all along. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll try to communicate better.”
She just laughs and we hang up and continue texting, but not before she informs me that we will have to set up a schedule to meet in person. Apparently even with emojis in my armoury I am “more fun” in person. Who would have thought?
Within the two days before I call my mother I also get my first driving lesson with Jacob Black. He drives over in his fathers old truck, which he can no longer use due to the wheelchair. Jacob informs me of this with a smile that tells me he’s inherited the truck.
He bounces out of the vehicle with a giant grin on his face and his hands clasped excitedly behind his back. I could all but feel the excitement radiating off of him in waves. He had come prepared too, as I later found out, when he inserted a CD into my cars radio system. Soft rock echoed sweetly throughout the cab and Jacob drummed his fingers over his knees. “You gotta love ‘em, right?” He asked redundantly. I nodded, not knowing who I had to love or why, but just enjoying sitting next to him and listening to him talk.
He walked me through the gear shift. It sticks when you move directly from park to reverse, so I should always pause on drive for a moment first. We practice this in the driveway a few times before taking to the residential streets. We mostly talk during the drive, him giving me all the Rez gossip and me providing him with the meek details of my online school experience and my conversations with Jessica.
“She’s really nice,” I tell him as the trucks engine growls loudly at the stop light. “Loud, but loud in a nice way.” He nods in the passenger seat as if he completely understands, which I do not find difficult to believe. I wouldn’t be surprised if everybody in town was his friend.
“Yeah, I know a few people like that.” I’m proven correct. “Like there are just so many things going on inside them they can’t contain it.” I nod absently but my mind shifts to the first part of Jacobs comment. I wonder how many friends he has? I can’t imagine he’s unpopular, or even shy, he’s just too exciting and fun. His smile makes me want to smile.
“What?” He enunciates slowly with a slow head turn. I look away quickly, my eyes steadily focused on the bumper in front of us. I didn’t mean to stare at him.
“Nothing.”
“No, what?” I pull into the next lane, making sure to check over my shoulder twice. Maybe if I don’t pay attention to him, maybe if I just ignore- “Is there something on my face?”
I look over, baited into meeting his eyes. A big palm runs over his mouth and he pulls it back as if to inspect it for markings. “No,” I assure him. “There’s nothing on your face.” Then, my lips widen as if with a mind of their own, and suddenly I’m grinning. “I mean other than-”
He guffaws out a laugh before I can finish my comment and looks over at me with a smile mirroring my own. “Bella Swan, were you about to make a joke?” I shoot him a half-hearted glare and realize that this is all too easy with him. Jacob is like an overactive puppy, so easy to excite and quick to make you smile. I also realize that I seem to really enjoy the company of this particular overactive puppy.
“I make jokes plenty of times,” I retort with a quick glance in my rearview mirror. The houses have transitioned into a tree line and the previously residential road boasts a higher speed limit.
“You most definitely do not. I remember being kids, you were always the sensible one.” My heart skips and my field of vision narrows to the space above the steering wheel. The road is slick with rain, I doubt I’ll ever see it dry. “You used to ask Charlie to put bandaids in your little backpack, just in case…” his words continue, detailing how mature I was for a first grader. I made decisions way past my age and was the first one to disinfect surface cuts and scrapes. I was the only one to disinfect bloody knees and palms, even though the sight made me sick. “It was like you just had to take care of everybody else.”
He looks over to me, I can see him in my peripheral vision, but instead of looking back I force my lips into an open smile. I hope it comes across as genuine. “I had a thing for first aid.” It’s a poor response. Anybody could see through my shallow sentence and many people would call me out on it. Tell me that for a girl with such a large vocabulary it’s odd for me to suddenly have nothing to say. For a girl who claims to enjoy this boys company I seem to be going out of my way to deter him from ever calling me again.
“Take a left up here,” Jacob says and his hand juts out to point at a beaten gravel road. It cuts into the forest at a haggard angle which makes it nearly impossible to maneuver, but I do so with more than minimal effort and release a heavy breath once we are on it. “Okay, now try to merge back onto the road.”
“What?” The odd, and clearly impossible, request pulls me out of my self-pitying thoughts. “Jake-”
“If you can’t do it that’s fine, just switch seats and I’ll drive.” The devilish glint in his eyes provokes some deep, hidden piece of me that craves competition.
“You just miss Betty,” I say with perhaps a little too much vindication. He doesn’t seem bothered either way and simply shrugs his large shoulders, the russet skin reflecting the light of another car's headlights as it passes on the main road.
“Yeah, I do.”
taglist:
@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos
#twilight#edward cullen#bella swan#jasper#the twilight saga#carlisle#twilight saga#smeyer#twilight renaissance#2008#fic#twilight fanfic#twilight fic#jacob and bella hot damn#jacob/bella#jacobxbella#jacob black#bellaxjacob#bella/jacob#moonlit#mine
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In Another World
Summary: In another world, it was Jensen that got the role of Captain America, not Chris. You have dreamed of meeting Jensen ever since you saw him in his CGI glory in The First Avenger, and your comicon experience you discover to be underwhelming. But then you meet a cosplayer in the bar... and life takes an altogether different turn for you.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Comicon, Comic Convention, Strangers at a Bar, Cosplay, Captain America Cosplay, Unprotected Sex, Hotel Room Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Blow Job, Anal Play.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader (no race specified)
The above Jensen manip i cannot trace, it was sent to me years ago by a now deactivated tumblr user, with the signature half chopped off. Its the artwork that inspired this fic. In case you weren’t aware, Jensen auditioned for the role of Captain America but it of course went to Chris.
I do not operate a tag list, but feel free to go ahead and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified when i post a new story. Oneshots will be posted on Tumblr and AO3, Multichapter stories will be AO3 exclusives.
Due to the amount of stories i have written over the years i no longer have a masterlist, instead please check out my AO3 HERE.
In Another World
You sat at your computer, staring at the screen as you streamed the latest press junket. Marvel was going all out with its ten-year plan for The Avengers and with this press tour for The Winter Soldier you had fallen in love even more with Cap.
As the images streamed live from the far east, you watched as Jensen flexed his muscles and his co-stars laughed in admiration. He was born to be Captain America.
But you weren’t the only one watching.
In a small apartment in Boston another pair of eyes watched with an added level of sadness. He remembered the audition. Standing in the hallway with a bunch of other guys, all in their 20’s, all having a few bit-part roles under their belts in teen TV shows or low budget horror movies. The same green eyes that stared out of the screen had looked at him in the hallway, holding his hand out to shake;
“Hey man. Jensen”
“Chris”
Jensen smiled;
“Strong Boston accent there dude”
Chris chuckled;
“Say the same about you, what’s that Houston?”
“Dallas”
“Eh, close enough”
They chatted for a while as the guys ahead of them in the line entered the room, only to leave 5 minutes later. They didn’t look up at the guys left, no-one wanted to read expressions to give themselves fake hope. The door opened and the annoying droll voice of the elderly secretary called out;
“Ackles”
Chris looked up, holding his hand out to his new acquaintance;
“Break a leg man”
Shaking it briefly Jensen nodded;
“Thanks man”
-
You clung to your priority tickets, the excitement so intense you weren’t sure if you were going to puke or cry. You hoped for neither. It was your first convention and you had maxed out your credit card and called in sick from work when the special edition tickets had been released, refreshing your computer every ten seconds so that when they had been released online you had made your purchase within 30 seconds.
Now standing towards the front of the queue you were terrified. You had loved Jensen from the first moment you’d seen him in all his CGI glory in The First Avenger. You’d followed his career and had even gone back and watched his entire back catalogue. He was a natural for the role and the stealth suit from the most recent movie had made him look so handsome you had actually swooned when you had seen those first opening scenes of the movie aboard the Lumerian Star.
The con volunteers were doing an amazing job, herding the fans into some form of order, and as you got closer you could hear the laughter and squeals of joy as fans ahead of you were rapidly shown in.
It was your turn. The flimsy black curtain was pulled aside, and you were pushed into the brightness of the well-lit area that was surrounded on all sides by vivid blue panels that bore the con’s logo. Jensen turned and smiled, putting his hand out and you found you were standing next to him. Your head swam;
“Do you have a pose?”
“Umm…” You could see the con workers and volunteers moving their arms in a ‘hurry up’ motion; “I guess… a hug?”
“Sure thing”
He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pointed towards the bored looking photographer;
“Smile sweetie”
You did. You smiled, your saw blobs as the flash blinded you. You didn’t even register as Jensen pressed his hand to your back, thanking you before turning to the next person who had already been pulled through the black curtain. A volunteer took your wrist and pulled you gently through the curtain on the far side, giving you your photo number as they apologised it was so fast.
The curtain closed and you stood there, blinking as you tried to focus on the small piece of paper you held. It was done. Over. You’d met Jensen and it had been so rushed you hadn’t even had chance to look at him.
The bile started to rise, you looked around and saw a trash can, leaning over it and vomited into the piles of used coffee cups and candy wrappers.
-
The hunt for a bottle of water at a con hadn’t been something you would think would take so long; a lot of the vendors had already sold out, others the line was so long it would have taken you longer to get the water than the queue for the con in the first place. It seemed as if everyone was walking against you, or you were going against the flow of them, but when you finally got your water you drained the entire bottle, soothing your bile parched throat. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you heard an announcement over the PA system;
“We apologise, but the Jensen Ackles panel won’t be broadcast out of the auditorium due to technical issues”
“WHAT?” you grabbed your wrist, looking at your watch as your eyes went wide. You’d been so dazed by your photo op and feeling ill afterwards you had forgotten about the panel. You needed a drink, and something stronger than water.
-
Chris adjusted the helmet of his costume as he looked in the mirror. The men’s room was quiet, the main panel of the con was on and he couldn’t bring himself to sit in the same room as the guy that had won the role that had made him millions; of fans and dollars.
After not getting the Captain America role Chris had continued to take bit parts and small independent movies. He was recognised occasionally but he hadn’t hit the big time. In fact there were months when there was nothing coming in and it was only after someone had asked him to fill in at a kids party where one of the superhero guys had fallen sick at the last minute did the idea of cosplaying come to him. Now however he was well known in cosplay circles, even getting paid for some appearances. He was called a natural for the role, but that was the hardest to hear. He’d worked hard with his costumer and within just a few weeks of the latest movie coming out they’d successfully recreated the amazing Stealth Suit in its darker colours.
Checking his pants for his wallet he decided he needed a drink, and something stronger than a soda.
-
Nodding to the bartender, you thanked him as he set the beer down in front of you before he went to the far end of the bar to pull the latest load of glasses out of the dishwasher. You sat picking at the label and tracing patterns in the condensation that gathered on the cool glass. You were vaguely aware of other people coming and going, and when the barstool next to you was taken you didn’t look up.
“What’ll it be Cap?”
The bartender’s greeting drew your attention from your drink, casting your gaze to your side and your breath was sucked from your body. You watched as the man set his helmet onto the surface of the bar before nodding to what you were drinking;
“Same as the lady please”
Your eyes travelled from where his hand sat on the countertop of the bar up the dark sleeve of his stealth suit, taking in his wide shoulders and up to the fluffy dark blonde hair, slightly messed up from where he’d been wearing the helmet. You couldn’t help it, but you were staring. Your jaw was hanging low as he turned slowly to you, his blue eyes sparkling with just the faintest hint of green as he looked at you and a self-conscious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth;
“Hi…”
“You’re… you’re…”
“No, just cosplaying…” he turned back to his beer for a moment until you finally found your voice
“No. You’re Chris”
He set his beer on the countertop and turned to you, this time a genuine smile on his face;
“Do we know each other?”
“Well…” you blushed; “We spoke on Instagram” He cocked an eyebrow, but his attention didn’t waiver from you as you continued; “You’re ‘AlmostCap’, right? You posted about wanting advice on how to dye leather boots a deeper colour? I messaged you with the details of the dyes costumiers use”
His face broke into a wide smile;
“Oh yeah, that really worked! How did you know that?”
“Majored in theatre design at college”
“Well that titbit of knowledge brought the whole costume together” he motioned to his stealth suit and you couldn’t help but to look him up and down; “Without you I wouldn’t look this good”
You snorted back a laugh;
“I’m sure you look just a good without the suit”
Bringing your beer to your lips you took a sip, not realising Chris had moved closer until his lips brushed against your ear;
“Would you like to find out?”
-
The hotel room door crashed against the wall, the metal doorknob leaving a dent in the drywall. Chris had you pressed up against it, one hand holding you flush with his chest as his other hand blindly reached out for the door to close it. As soon as his fingertips grasped the cool wood he threw it shut with a thud that reverberated through the room.
Your hands clawed at Chris’s costume, desperate to find purchase, something, anything to hang onto and anchor yourself as he kissed you so hard you saw spangled stars. He’d put his costume helmet back on for the rather quick walk through the convention to the hotel where you were staying. His lips traced patterns over your cheek before he pressed kisses down your neck, whispering as he went;
“I don’t normally do this…”
“Me neither…
“...especially in costume…”
“Oh Chris…Cap…”
“It’s Captain tonight, Princess”
His fingers had found their way to the buttons on the front of your dress, skilfully plucking each one from its grasp on the thin cotton fabric, before his still gloved hand roughly cupped your breasts. As his lips found yours again, he groaned into your mouth as he weighed your breasts in his large hands, the rough leather against the lace of your bra sending chills through you. If Chris had a Captain kink you weren’t about to say no, hell, it would be one of your biggest fantasies.
You found yourself being manhandled towards the bed, Chris’s kisses hard and ravenous, and when he wasn’t kissing you his tongue was doing the most devilish things on your skin. The bed touched the back of your knees and you were falling back onto the covers, Chris following seconds later as he pressed you into the mattress. With a thick thigh he pushed your legs apart, the rough Kevlar fabric of his suit brushing against the delicate skin of your soft skin as his fingers sought out the juncture of thighs. The brush of the harsh leather of his fingerless gloves made you groan into his mouth as he tugged your panties to the side and his thumb found your clit. Rubbing small circles, he teased it from its hood, before his fingers slid through your folds to ease some of your slick moisture from you to smooth his efforts.
When his lips left yours you chased after them, but his voice made you settle back against the bed and open your eyes;
“Uh-uh… stay there Princess”
You watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, before his kiss bruised lips closed around his glistening digits and he moaned as he tasted you;
“You taste amazing”
“Umm… thank you?”
“Here…”
He brought his hand to your mouth and you grasped it as you sucked gently on just the fingertips, watching as Chris’s already lust blown pupils widened even further;
“Jesus fucking Christ, your tongue…”
Letting go of his fingers with an audible pop, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, resting on one arm as you slid a hand between your bodies and palmed his erection through his suit;
“What about my tongue?” you grinned before you tugged him down to lay beside you.
Pushing up onto your knees you ran your hand down his chest and stomach, the costume warm from his body heat and firm to the touch. Your fingers clawed at his suit to try and find the zipper, and after thirty seconds of searching you let out a huff;
“Ok, how the fuck to I get in here?”
With a low chuckle Chris reached down and lifted a hidden Velcro flap that revealed the button and the top of the zipper, and you eagerly tugged the pants of his suit open. The large bulge in his boxers immediately filled the space of the open zipper, and you found yourself nuzzling against the hardness that the soft jersey fabric could hardly contain. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the hard shaft through the fabric, you felt Chris’s hands on your head, he wasn’t pushing but you could tell he wanted you. With a smile you just about tugged his boxers down enough to free his cock, the thick shaft standing proud from the fly of his stealth suit. You wrapped your hands around it, the flesh hot to touch and pumped him slowly.
“Ah fuck Princess…”
“Yes Captain?”
“Please…”
He sounded wrecked, and as you leant forwards and licked at the bead of clear precum that was pooling at the tip you not only heard but felt the low rumble of his moan of appreciation. Wrapping your lips around the tip you started to suck, your tongue working over the hot smooth flesh as your fist worked up and down, pumping him slowly as you let the saliva pool in your mouth so you could take him deeper. In a moment when you pulled off to take a breath Chris’s hands were suddenly on your hips, moving you until you were kneeling on the bed and straddling his shoulders, and for a moment you squealed where his sudden strength had moved you with such ease.
“Gotta taste you…” he muttered from beneath the skirt of your dress, his hands smoothing over the globes of your ass and you could feel his breath hot on your skin. His fingers tugged your panties to the side and he was pulling you down onto his mouth, his tongue swiping through your soaked folds.
For a moment you lost yourself, Chris’s efforts driving you closer to orgasm than you thought was possible, but you found your senses and leant forwards again, taking him as deep as you could and you felt his moan deep in your cunt as he almost came on the spot. Working your fingers into his suit you cupped his balls, feeling them tight and hot in your hand as you sucked hard on his cock. At the same time you felt Chris drive his tongue into your soaked hole and his thumb sought out your clit. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, and you could feel your legs start to shake. The harder he drove forwards the deeper you took him into your mouth. You heard a muffled cry from between your thighs and you felt that first tremble of the thick vein that ran the length of his cock. At the same time you felt his fingers dance over the crack of your ass, one finger pressing lightly against your dark rose and you were cumming over his face as he pumped thick ropes of cum down your throat.
When your legs were about to give out you tactfully rolled to the side, laying on the bed next to Chris as he fought to catch his breath. With laboured efforts he wrenched his helmet off, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he started to fumble with his costume;
“Gotta get out of this…”
Watching a hot guy strip was not something you’d experienced before, and a hot guy dressed as Captain America? Well that was hitting all your buttons in one go. You smiled as Chris was muttering to himself;
“Fuckin’ suit, so fuckin’ hot… fuckin’ drenched in sweat…”
When he was down to just his pants you finally spoke up;
“Need a hand there Captain?”
Chris looked up and grinned;
“You mind if I use your shower?”
“Sure thing, it’s all yours…”
Chris started for the small bathroom door, his utility pants hanging low on his hips before he paused and turned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth;
“Wanna join me?”
-
Showering with a guy you had literally just met was a surreal experience. The comfort and security of being partially clothed during a hook-up was completely stripped from you as you stood in the small shower enclosure the hotel room offered. Chris had looked absolutely sinful as he had stood beneath the cascading water; his skin patterned with multiple tattoos and just the right amount of chest hair that made you want to run your fingers through it as the hot water coursed over his body. Your fingers had trailed down over his hard stomach, tracing the trail of hair that led to his thick cock hanging heavy between his muscled thighs.
His lips had met yours eagerly again, and he soon had you pressed against the wall, his leg wedged between your thighs as you ground yourself against the firm muscle. Chris’s hands found your ass and eagerly pulled you hard against him, trapping his now angry cock between your bodies;
“Fuck… you’re so fuckin’ sexy” he muttered against your ear, his fingers digging into your asscheeks; “You gonna cum for me Princess? Soak my thigh?”
“Yes Chris, please…”
“What do you need Princess?”
“Something…. Just more…”
He pulled back from you, searching your expression for something, anything as he chose his words;
“I can give you more…” The depth of tone sent a shudder down your spine; “I’m gonna ask you this and you can say no, and I won’t walk out that door if you say no, but do you like ass play?”
You growled. You god-damn growled like a feral wildcat, nodding eagerly;
“Yes Chris… fuck, yes…”
He captured your lips for another fierce kiss as his hands slid over your ass and one finger trailed up the seam of your cheeks before pressing gently against your rear;
“Now Princess” he muttered against your lips; “I haven’t got any lube in here so it’ll just be a gentle press, you tell me if you want me to stop”
You nodded, biting your lip as he pushed forwards, one hand gripping your hip as he slid you up and down his soaked thigh, the other pressing gently but insistently against your back door.
Just that stimulation alone was enough, and you were cumming hard, your head pressed against the cool tiles as Chris sucked a hickey into your neck.
You stood there panting as you tried to regain your composure, Chris holding you tight in his arms as he gently caressed you as you finally came to your senses. Nuzzling against his neck you felt him push his hips forward, his thick cock hard again against your hip;
“Ready for another round?”
“Anything for you Cap” you grinned.
-
The pair of you had fallen back onto the bed, half dry and oblivious to anything other than pleasure. Body heat rising, you felt your back naturally arch as Chris lay on top of you, pulling his knee up to part your legs further and you could feel his thick length laying hot and hard against your soaked folds. As his other leg pushed up and parted your thighs even further, you felt that first nudge of his tip at your soaked entrance, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist and with one firm squeeze you felt his breach your body and slide into you.
The base noise that escaped your throat as you felt each glorious inch stretch your velvet walls was music to Chris’s ears, and he let you take the lead even though he was the one on top, letting your body grow accustomed to his size. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke softly;
“You’re doing so good Princess, feel so fuckin’ amazing, takin’ me so deep”
You slowly relaxed your thighs grip on his waist and Chris started to move, sliding his hips back as he slid out, before pushing slowly back in. Propping himself up either side of you, you watched as his arms bulged as he looked down and watched as he pulled out again, your wetness liberally coating him.
With his tip just notched inside you whined at the loss, before with a powerful thrust he filled you completely;
“Holy FUCK!”
“Do you like that Princess? Like my thick dick splitting you open?”
“Fuck Chris, yes, do it again… please!” you whined.
The gorgeous man above you grinned down, seemingly turned on by your begging, and with a loud grunt he started to pile drive into you, his impressive girth stretching you in all the right ways, the slight upward curve to his shaft making your g-spot his number one target with every push. The man was a demon in bed, fucking you hard as he pressed kisses to your chest and breasts, all whilst uttering the dirtiest things about how good you felt, how well you were taking his dick. You begged for more and he eagerly gave it, fucking you through one orgasm before chasing another. His thrusts started to get sloppy, his hips stuttering and he cursed quietly under his breath;
“Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon…”
“Cum inside me… I’m on the pill…”
He pushed a hand between your bodies, rubbing hard circles against your clit and soon you were coming, your orgasm triggering his, and you as your body milked the cum from his body you both felt like you had found heaven.
With a grunt Chris rolled to your side, his dick sliding out of your soaked channel and he lay on the bed, his head propped up on one elbow, his dick full and swollen at your hip, still shining with your combined fluids. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, and you practically purred when Chris gently ran his fingertips over your breasts;
“That was fuckin’ amazing… I’m probably going about this the wrong way, but can I buy you dinner?”
“That’d be nice”
-
Dinner had been a fun affair; you had redressed, and Chris had worn his stealth suit pants but just wore the thin Under Armour undershirt instead of the full suit. Although the hotel was well used to people in cosplay costumes during the conventions using their facilities, Chris didn’t want to draw attention to himself, instead he wanted his sole attention to be able to be on you rather than people asking for photos. Throughout your meal the conversation had been fun and light, Chris telling you how he had in fact auditioned for the Marvel role but didn’t envy the craziness that came with the now worldwide recognition that Jensen had to put up with. You had explained how you now worked for a theatrical costumer’s agency on the West Coast, but had heard about some openings for a new series production out of Vancouver.
Chris laughed softly;
“Typical… I fall for a girl that lives on the opposite side of the country”
“You… you’ve fallen for me?”
Chris paused, resting his hand over yours;
“I’m sorry, I’m kinda sappy when it comes to relationships… and I gotta be honest, when I saw you at the bar, I recognised you from your Instagram and when you helped me… I was trying to play it cool…” he took a deep breath; “I hope I’m not scaring you off…”
Leaning forward you pressed a kiss to his cheek;
“No… it’s nice… its more than nice…”
-
Once the meal was over the pair of you stood in the foyer, unsure what to do before Chris pointed out the rest of his costume was in your room.
“Where are you staying tonight?”
“I was meant to be crashing on a friends couch”
Grinning you pulled him close;
“Did you want a bed rather than a couch?”
“Fuck yes”
Minutes later you were crashing in the door to your room, Chris’s hands and lips trying to cover every inch of your body, and this time with the knowledge of how his costume worked you knew exactly how to get his pants open, tugging them to the floor as you pushed him into one of the chairs and knelt at his booted feet. With his dick in your mouth he was soon hard again, but that was when he took control, standing and moving you until you were knelt on the soft chair arms looking out of the high rise window over the convention center and city below, the lights of the city oblivious as he flipped your skirt up and pulled your panties down, and filled you with one smooth thrust;
“Fuck… this pussy is fuckin’ perfect, you feel like heaven…”
Wrapping his strong arms around you he pulled you flush with his hard chest, sucking at your neck as his dick rubbed so beautifully against your g-spot you were coming again, screaming out your release as Chris pulled out and lifted you, pulling you to your feet before you found yourself pressed against the wall and he filled you again.
Clinging to his wide shoulders you felt him filling you over and over, your pleasure climbing higher than you ever thought possible. Chris’s strong arms were holding you up, his large hands gripping your ass as he fucked you into the wall, your legs wrapped around his narrow waist;
“Chris, I’m gonna cum…”
“That’s it, cum for me, let me feel that pussy milking me as I fill you up… you feel so good, I’m never letting this pussy go…”
As you came so did he, your walls squeezing him so tight he thought he may pass out from the sheer pleasure. For the longest time he just held you there, your bodies joined until Chris’s dick softened enough to slip out of you. Letting your feet fall to the ground you kissed as you made your way to the bed, falling onto the mattress before wrapping the covers around your flushed bodies, falling asleep soon after.
-
The sound of a phone ringing pulled you from sleep, the warm body next to you grumbling at the sound before it rapidly jumped out of bed;
“Fuck, that’s my phone”
Through bleary eyes you watched Chris’s naked ass as he rummaged through the piles of clothing on the floor, finding his phone and answering it just in time;
“Yeah… uh-huh… for real?! Yeah absolutely! Send me the details, I’ll be there!”
You watched as he listened a little longer before ending the call, turning to you and he had the biggest smile on his face;
“I might have gotten a part!”
“Really? That’s amazing!”
“Yeah, they want me to do some screen tests with a possible co-star, see if there’s chemistry”
Jumping out of bed you ran and hugged him, kissing him deeply as he carried you back to the bed;
“I feel like celebrating… how about breakfast in bed?”
“Ok, I’ll call room serv… oh…”
Chris was pushing your legs apart and kissing up your inner thigh, and that’s when you realised he was talking about a different kind of breakfast in bed. As you lay back and enjoyed the magic he could perform with his tongue, you blissed out from pleasure.
-
Three Weeks Later
Chris finished the last scene, the director calling cut and he grinned as he looked at his castmates. None of them could quite believe how they were there, standing in a cold and rainy British Columbia small town, with writers and directors that had been trying to get their series picked up for years.
The rest of the cast of ‘Supernatural’ was a small ensemble, and having been given the role of the older brother; Dean Winchester, Chris felt at home with the role and had been given he contract straight after his screen test with his on screen brother Sam. Laughing with the actor that played Sam - a native New Yorker by the name of Sebastian - the two of them had immediately clicked and their friendship and on screen chemistry shone through the camera.
“Hey Evans, Stan!”
The sound of the producer’s voice caught Chris’s attention;
“Yeah?”
They need you two back at the studio, costume fitting”
“Sure thing”
-
The sound of the small doorbell that had been fitted on the counter drew your attention from the racks in the back room, calling out for your new arrival that you’d be out in a second. The job you’d applied for in Vancouver had pulled through, and it was your first week. A new show that needed a lot of men’s casual wear, yet things like jeans and jackets needed seams strengthened for fight scenes and pockets added for prop weapons. You were yet to meet the two main stars of the show, the casting having not been fully finalised until just days ago, and everything was hush-hush until it was going to be announced at one of the late summer conventions.
Dumping the armfuls of clothing onto the counter you turned and almost fainted;
“Chris?!”
For a second he looked in shock before he vaulted the counter, and took you into his arms;
“You’re here? You’re really here?”
“You’re the star?! You didn’t tell me!”
You kissed him deeply, before a quiet cough from behind Chris drew your attention, Chris turning;
“Seb, I want you to meet the girl I was telling you about”
The other guy raised an eyebrow;
“You’re THE girl? Wow, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he held his hand out over the counter and you shook it, Chris still holding you in his arms; “I’m Sebastian but everyone calls me Seb”
Looking at the two of them you knew in that moment the show was going to be a hit, and you looked forward to making these two look even better on screen… if that was even possible.
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Survey #321
i’m exploring the deepest recesses of tumblr to unearth super old surveys, so you can expect an onslaught of ‘em.
When someone is tailgating you, do you drive faster or slower? I drive the same speed, even though it makes me incredibly uncomfortable.
What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? My sister's place.
Have you ever been snorkeling? No.
Do most of your relatives live in the same state/province as you? No; only my parents and immediate sisters live here.
Have you ever participated in a medical study? No.
Is there a food you hate that everyone else seems to like? Especially where I live, fried chicken. It's disgusting.
Have you ever had to evacuate from a natural disaster? No.
Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Numerous, actually.
Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have a driver's license, never mind anything else.
What job does you significant other have? I’m single.
When you were in elementary school, what was a typical afternoon like once you got home from school? I did my homework right away; well, after having a snack. After that, I was most likely on the computer playing Neopets or Webkinz, or something on the PlayStation.
Is your favorite movie part of a series? Yes.
Have you ever played in a water puddle? Sure, as a kid. I loved that.
Have you ever played in a mud puddle? I don't think so.
Have you ever kissed someone (outside) in the rain? Yes. He did it purely to be romantic, lol.
Have you ever lost control of your car in the rain? No, thank fuck.
Have you ever had to attend summer school? No.
Have you ever experienced a summer where the temperature exceeded 120'F/49'C? Yikes, no, not that high. The highest we usually get is below 110.
Do you live in a hot or cold (normally) climate? Hot. It sucks.
Has your community ever had a “smog alert”? No.
Have you ever raked leaves, and then played in them? Oh, absolutely as a kid. Dad would rake a pile just for us kids.
Have they ever cancelled school because it was too hot? At least once, yes.
Have you ever had to shovel snow? No.
Have you ever experienced “cat’s breath”, where the wind was so powerful it took your breath away, literally? Yep, especially when I visited Sara and we went on a walk. It was fucking outrageous. Safe to say I didn't last long on that walk.
Has your/or have you been in a car that was stuck in a snowstorm? No.
What does your MySpace profile look like? I haven't seen it since that site was still "a thing." I do remember, however, that it was COVERED in meerkats, haha. Pictures, facts, etc. And my page song was "Pocketful of Sunshine" by Natasha Beddingfield lmao.
Do you like living in the country or city better? Country, 100%. I'm not a city gal by any means.
Do you have a big backyard? No, it's very small. Not used to that at all.
What is your favorite Adam Sandler movie? I don't know, he's in too many to choose lmao.
What was the last thing that surprised you? Apparently a rocket crashed today after launch.
What color hair did your first crush have? Brown.
Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building? No. I... didn't even know those existed lmao I feel dumb.
Who was the last person that said something that warmed your heart? I'm not sure, but I'm quite certain my niece or nephew would be involved there, haha.
What is your favorite park? I don't have one.
Have you ever felt an earthquake? No.
Do you believe anyone is asexual? ???????????? Yes????????????
Were you abused? No.
Have you ever missed a deadline? Yeah.
Can you tell Mary-Kate and Ashley apart in pictures? I haven't seen them in an eternity, idk.
Describe your fondest memory: I don't really want to... but I'll entertain the question. It's hard to choose, and they just about all include Jason. I think what I hold closest though was our dance to "Stairway to Heaven" after prom in the headlights of his car in my front yard. It's something that physically hurts to remember.
What song makes you cry every time you hear it? Let's set aside my "trigger songs" for this. "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade does it very easily.
How often do you break your promises? I almost never do. I don't bullshit around with promises. I've only ever broken ones I'd forgotten I'd made, if my memory serves me right.
How long do you take in the shower, on average? Not even 10 minutes.
Do you have your MySpace/Facebook profile set to a "friends only" setting? Yes.
Did your last kiss mean anything? Why or why not? Of course it did. I care very, very deeply for her.
Are your summers usually boring and relaxing, or busy and interesting? "Summers are hot and miserable." <<<< mood
Tell me a crazy thing you did as a child. I don't really think I did anything "crazy" as a child, just weird. Like pretending to be a father penguin arranging rocks to mock a nest. I was fuckin weird.
How many best friends do you have? One.
When you’re upset, who do you wanna talk to the most? Either Sara, Mom, or nobody.
Opinion on Daughtry? They're nice. "No Surprise" is positively beautiful.
Do you like country music? Noooooo.
What’s been the most awkward situation you've been in? Okay, possible TMI. Basically, Jason's parents arrived home way, way earlier than they were supposed to and my panicky ass couldn't find my clothes quickly, and when I finally did, I had to dress as quickly as possible in his tiny-ass closet while he distracted his mom and dad lmfao. I'ma just say it was a very close call to me melting into a mortified puddle. I look back on it and laugh now, but the absolute, throbbing fear I felt was NOT funny back then lmfao.
Don’t you love that feeling when you look at someone and you just melt? <3 That is genuinely one of the best feelings in the entire world.
Do you prefer male or female singers? I have no preference.
So what are you planning for this summer? Nothing, really... Who knows where the Covid situation will be then.
What’s a good book? In general for absolutely anyone, Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. It is a book about pacifism that is so very deep and emotional. For women, I highly recommend The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. As a woman myself, the concept of the book is terrifying, to be reduced to reproduction machines without rights, so it's something you can really feel as a female. It's a book that definitely makes you want to fight for women's rights.
Is it awkward for you when your parents talk to you about boys etc… No. I'm a grown woman. Now if she asked about my sex life (if I had one), I'd feel a bit weird, but not very.
Do you like it when guys play with your hair? Yeah.
Ever cried when you had to say goodbye to someone? Well of course. Over multiple people.
Have your parents ever hated one of your boyfriends/girlfriends? No.
Have you ever dreamt of someone you barely know? Indeed.
Do you have a blood donor’s card? Yep.
Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? I had to before surgery.
Has anyone seen you naked in the last week? No.
What kind of doctor did you go to the last time you went? It was via phone, but I talked with my psychiatrist a few days ago.
Does your ex still think about you? I'm sure Sara and Girt do, as they're my good friends, but idk if either think of me romantically. I would hope Jason at least remembers me with some degree of care in his heart... As for Juan, Aaron, and Tyler, idk if they do and I don't really care.
What has been bothering you a lot lately? My weight.
Are you trustworthy? I think so, yes.
Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? Yeah, but it definitely depends on the situation.
Which literary character would you dress up as, if you had to choose one? Speaking of The Handmaid's Tale, for Halloween one year, I really, really want to take some cool photos of me dressed as a handmaid with a (obviously fake) blood splatter over my stomach.
What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? Being born with the mom I have, probably. I have no idea. None. Of where I'd be without her.
Do you miss college? Sigh, sometimes... but I'm not going back. No chance. Dropping out three times due to my mental state hints at a clear pattern.
Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? Yeah, accidentally. Except with my physical science teacher in HS that eventually became my "other mom" and most recently our landlord, even. I call her "Mama" sometimes.
What was the name of your first imaginary friend? It was a wolf whose name I don't remember.
What color was your nursery when you were a baby? No clue.
What is your favorite arcade game? I desperately wanna go to a location that has Silent Hill: The Arcade. :/ That's on my bucket list. It's very rare.
Are you allergic to grass? No.
Do you remember to water plants? I don’t have any plants to water.
What is your favorite fall drink? I don't drink any "fall" drinks.
Favorite winter drink? Hot chocolate!
Favorite spring drink? There are "spring" drinks?
Favorite summer drink? Gimme a nice, cold margarita.
Name three creative people you know. Sara, Tez, and Mini are some of the most creative people I've ever written with.
Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. Mark in like a million different ways, I look up greatly to Jeffree Star's work ethic (say what you will about him personally, but holy shit does mama WORK), and Emzotic for her incredible growth after trauma that's left her more confident than ever, and she's amazing with animals and just a darling overall.
Does anyone know who your current crush is? Yeah, I'm pretty open about it.
Have you ever been scammed? Not successfully, no.
Which song describes your life? I relate to "Get Up" by Mother Mother a lot at this point in my life.
If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? Probably because I open up so slowly/am very secretive of myself when someone might be trying to get close. People have also criticized my laziness.
Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with? YouTube. At least I think Tez was the last person I gave my number to.
Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? Hunter, my neighbor growing up.
Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? My therapist. I had to leave group due to severe abdominal cramping. It was just my period, but he just wanted to check.
What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine? Probably a soda back when I was still in school.
Has anyone given you butterflies recently? Actually yeah; I had a memory of Sara that caused 'em to revisit me.
What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I'm going to exclude my puppy-dog crush (Dylan) and talk about my first "real" crush, Sebastian. I liked him because we had very similar interests, he was really friendly, nice, and funny, and he clearly trusted me a lot because he actually confided in me regarding the relationship he was in that was struggling and causing him a lot of pain. I thought he was attractive, too. Ngl, I wonder sometimes where we could have gone if he hadn't been dating the girl, because I'm 90% sure he was into me, too. In current times, he very recently got engaged! Super happy for him.
Which parent do you identify with the most? My ma.
What do you think you cook or bake the best? Scrambled eggs, I guess. That's just about all I CAN make, haha. My family likes 'em. I always use American cheese, salt, pepper, and a bit of hot sauce.
What embarrasses you the most in front of other people? Admitting I RP.
If you had to choose one thing you were most passionate about, what would it be and why? Of actually important things, gay rights. If we're talkin' passionate about anything, then the answer's meerkats, duh.
Who are you most envious of—real or fictional—and why? A rival photographer that lives here. I absolutely hate admitting that, but yeah, I'm extremely envious of her. She gets way more traffic than I do by a long shot, even though I, from a completely modest and honest standpoint, genuinely think I do better work than her. It's just frustrating. All about who you know in this business.
How old is the most expired item in your fridge? Supposedly our milk expired on the 1st, but it smells just fine? And mind you, I am very cautious with expiration dates, and I've found milk typically starts to smell bad a few days earlier than the date to me. This jug is an outlier.
What are your favorite style of underwear? I'm a fat old lady that likes high-waisted underwear.
What’s the saddest song you’ve ever heard? Maybe "The Ballad of Dwight Fry" by Alice Cooper. I could name tons, though.
How about the sweetest song? Maybe "Easy to Love You" by Theory of a Deadman. Another song I struggle to listen to because it was one of mine and Jason's "songs."
Do you know how to play dominoes? No.
Are you proud of what you’re doing with your heart and time right now? Not in the least.
Why or why not? I'm just wasting time. Doing nothing with true meaning, and I seem unable to get over this low point I'm in.
How many bones have you broken? One. Well, I was told "fractured," but apparently that's the same thing as broken?
Have you ever won anything? Big or small? Yeah, multiple things.
What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Animals like cats or dogs. Pets, basically. I would feel WAY too weird.
Has anything/anyone every saved your life before? Yes.
What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try? If I'm embarrassed by it, why would I share it with whoever reads these?
What is the most important memory you have and why? When I decided it was truly time to move on from Jason. Why that's my most important is obvious: it changed my mindset and life in general.
Is there something you wish you had said sorry for but never did? God, I hope Jason read my apology email I last sent him. I finally accepted I did wrong, too, and I want to know that he knows that.
Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My youngest niece's first birthday was mid-February.
What’s a musical instrument you think sounds really beautiful? The violin.
Do you play that instrument? I wish I could.
Do you have a favorite type of pasta? (like a shape of noodles, not dish) Just spaghetti noodles, ig.
How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once.
Who sent the last e-mail you got? My PHP therapist sent me the Zoom link to our group session.
Do you have a favorite shape? Out of basic ones, circles.
What’s the last song you bought/downloaded? I don't recall. Probably something by 3TEETH.
Have you ever been on a trapeze? Hell nah.
Do you buy chocolate after Valentine’s Day when it goes on sale? No.
Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I met a poet at the psych hospital once. I also have an old friend who had something published in a magazine, I think.
Do you own a polaroid camera? No, but I'd love to to take more ~aesthetic~ photographs sometimes.
What is something you think is underrated? Snakes! :( They're not scary or gross, nor do they in any way deserve to be killed. I wish the worth of snakes was seen much more clearly. They are spectacular, intriguing animals.
Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? Once it hits like 65*F, I'm starting to feel uncomfortable.
In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? I hope beyond hope that I have a job I enjoy. And that I'm driving again.
What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? I used to loooove video editing, but I've lost all motivation for it.
Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? Somewhere we have this one stretchy thing that I have no idea what it's called, then there are two sets of small weights somewhere.
Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? New York.
Farthest south? Florida.
East? Well, ya can't go more east in NC unless you want to drive into the ocean... lol.
West? Illinois.
If you have/want children, will you raise them similar to the way you were raised? If I had kids, I would in some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no.
Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? Nothing strange, no.
What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? I don't know. Not very high.
Do you have an ebook reader? (iPad, Kindle, etc.) No.
What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes.
Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No.
When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? 2017, ig.
What is the last random act of kindness you did? I guess you could consider a loving text to Sara a random act of kindness?
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When Sitting on the Roof, We are but Coffee Sleuths.
| {Sequel to Death is the Stage, My Art is Your Grave.} |
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [DitSMAiYG Link] |
| {Repost due to original post disappearing from tags.} |
| Triggers/Warnings: Mentions of drugs/drug ring (in regards to a case), Mild language. |
| After a long day of boring casework, there's nothing better than getting a new commission, and then drinking coffee and having a chat on top of a roof with a certain bat. |
| Word Count: 3051 |
==–==
| A/N: First of all, I'd like to quickly thank everyone for all the positive response and support the original oneshot got on both Tumblr and Ao3! It really motivated and inspired me to continue with this Au (expect at least another sequel, maybe more if I get more inspo but even if I don't there's definitely gonna be one sequel minimum to this). I'd also like to mention, that this took a lot longer to write as I got a cold halfway through writing it and also it's romance based fluff (which is not my forté), but thanks to those who've waited for this! And finally, for reasons that I'll explain in a separate post later, it might be a "little" while before I can start work on the sequel to this one but it will get written at some point. |
| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then send me a DM or an ask! |
| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
==–==
It's been a month since Marinette got kidnapped, kissed Red Robin, and solved the Elemental Park Serial Killer case. For three weeks she's been held off active duty to make sure her bruised ribs heal but now that she's able to be on active duty again, all the available cases are those that are paperwork heavy. A small part of her misses the immediate healing of the Miraculous Cure but she's not Ladybug anymore and even if she was, it would raise too many flags for her to even use it anyway. But logic doesn't stop her from missing the days when she could literally and metaphorically magic away her aches and pains.
Marinette groans and slumps into her chair, it's been a surprisingly slow day at the GCPD, so when her phone beeps rapidly for a few seconds, she thinks, please be something interesting, and can't help but take a quick glance to see what new notifications she has. The screen reads: '3 new messages from Red'. So she taps the notification and reads through each message.
>RedRob: Hey, found some new evidence on our case, want to meet up for coffee to discuss it?
>RedRob: Rooftop coffee after dark, of course.
>RedRob: I mean I could waltz into a coffee shop during the day in my suit but that might get too much attention for case talk.
Marinette snickers to herself as she reads the messages over a second time. She quickly taps out her response.
>MariBlue: Will we need to worry about one of the other Gotham vigilantes crashing our coffee not-date?
Almost instantly she receives a response.
>RedRob: I'll bribe Oracle or Batgirl, maybe even Black Bat, into keeping the others away.
She sends a heart emoji back, then returns to sorting out her boring paperwork.
Detective Grayson raises an eyebrow at her from over the desk, clearly having caught her looking at her phone. “Red Robin again?”
She flashes him a sheepish grin. “How'd you guess.”
He gives her a deadpan stare. “He's the only person you respond to when working.”
Marinette bites her lip. “Whoops, that obvious?”
“Yes.” Detective Grayson hesitates for a second, he leans in closer—and like a teenage girl at a sleepover in a cheesy teen drama, asks, “So are you dating yet?”
She shrugs. “Well neither of us have asked the other so not really.”
“But you guys are perfect for each other!” He exclaims, gesturing towards her with an outstretched arm—very narrowly avoiding knocking anything off the desk.
It's Marinette's turn to raise an eyebrow. “We literally have only seen or talked to each other when working…”
“So? What do you call you quote unquote "not-dates"” He huffs, making air quotes as he speaks.
She huffs and shakes her head. “There's a reason they're called "not-dates" and that's because we discuss work at them. And anyway it's too early to rush our relationship.”
“Fair.” Detective Grayson stills, frowns and then almost hesitantly, he asks, “Is it because if the mask? The whole not knowing his real identity?”
Marinette rolls her eyes and shakes her head again. “Nope, I couldn't care less about finding out his real identity—at least not without his consent that is.”
He hums, a pensive look on his face. “So you're not curious?”
She shrugs. “Not particularly, why?”
Detective Grayson shrugs back. “Just wondering,” he leans back on his chair and for a split second, Marinette fears he might topple over but somehow he seems unaffected by gravity, “I think you're the first person I've met, who doesn't want to know who's behind a vigilante's mask.”
A smile tugs at Marinette's lips. “I think it's kinda dumb that so many people are obsessed with the people behind the masks because if they're doing good, unmasking them will only deter them from continuing fighting the good fight and all that, y'know.”
He nods slowly, “huh, that's one way of putting it I guess but I agree, the vigilantes do more for this city than people think they do.” Detective Grayson then tilts his head towards the Commissioner's office. “Anyway back to work, don't want to get in more trouble with the Commish than we are already!”
Marinette huffs in amusement and rolls her eyes but complies nonetheless. Wouldn't do to get in trouble so soon after getting back onto active duty!
==–==
It isn't until gone seven pm, that Marinette finally gets home. She slips through the door, locking it behind her. Now that she's in, the first thing she does, as she does every day, is check her online portfolio and commission site.
Marinette plops herself down in her wheely chair and logs onto to her computer, going through all the verification and security Max had kindly added. A new commission notification grabs her attention. With three clicks, she brings up the new commission's details. She scrolls down to the name of the commissioner: one Mr 'T. Drake-Wayne'.
Curious as to why the name sounds vaguely familiar, Marinette opens up a tab on Google with a hum and types in the name. Upon reading the top results, she half chokes in shock and thinks to herself, Are you kidding me? She blinks and breathes in, a small part of her very glad she wasn't drinking anything otherwise she definitely would've fully choked on that or spat it all up from the shock. I know a bunch of well-known celebrities have all commissioned me many times before, but still why the heck is a fortune 500 CEO commissioning me? I'm not Audrey Bourgeois, Gabriel Agreste, or even Valen-hecking-tino. I do celebrities, not fortune 500. The heck. What. The. Actual. Heck.
Eyes wide and gobsmacked, Marinette shakes her head and clicks back to her latest commission's details page to read through the actual commission. After reading the first line, she scrambles for her sketchbook and begins jotting down notes and scribbling down ideas.
Half an hour in, Marinette takes a break to sort out and eat dinner, no point designing on an empty stomach but once she's done eating and washed up, she goes straight back to designing.
Even at a quarter past midnight, she's still at it—surprisingly only three drafts in and so thoroughly lost in her own head in designing, Marinette nearly misses the knocking against her window facing the fire escape.
The rapid rap-tap-tap spooks her so much that she falls out of her chair with an “Eep!”
Marinette, face flushing bright red, scrambles up and scurries over to the window in question. Shoving her blinds out the way, she stares through the window and is greeted with the absolutely glorious sight of a beaming and uninjured Red Robin holding two takeaway coffee cups on the fire escape. He waves at her with one hand and gestures for her to join him on the fire escape.
She can't help but grin back at him and deftly opens the window and slinks out onto the fire escape. He hands a coffee cup towards her and instead of taking it, Marinette gives him a good ol' bearhug—smooshing pressing her face into his Kevlar armoured chest. Which is unsurprisingly, very uncomfortable. She shifts her head to stare up at him (as he's at least whole head taller than her) “Hey,” she greets.
Awkwardly hugging her back, as to not spill either of the coffees in the process, “hey yourself,” Red Robin responds, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
Marinette pulls back from the hug and nabs the coffee cup that had been offered to her before their hug. “Thank you~!”
“No problem.” He then gestures towards the fire escape stairs leading to the roof, “after you.”
“So which of our cases did you manage to get a lead for?” She asks, making her way up to the roof.
“The one pertaining to the new drug ring in the fashion district. I've narrowed down where they're storing the drugs to potentially three warehouses near Miller Harbour.” Red Robin answers, following after her.
Reaching the roof, Marinette sits down on the half wall around the roof edge. She glances over at Red Robin as he joins her on the improvised seat. “That's the drug ring dealing Miraclo right?”
“Yeah, that's the one.” He pauses to take a sip of his coffee, “I got the intel from an old friend of Catwoman's called Mackey lives in an apartment that overlooks the Harbour and saw a shipment of the drug arrive at the warehouses.”
Taking a sip of her own coffee, Marinette raises an eyebrow. “And will Detective Grayson and I will be able to get that intel as witness statement?”
Red Robin nods. “Yep, Catwoman's vouching for you both.”
She jerks back in surprise, nearly toppling off the half wall but managing to cling to the edge in time to keep her from falling. Miraculously somehow managing to avoid dropping or spilling her coffee. Oof, if it wasn't for my stint in Spandex I definitely would've made a fool of myself in front of Red Robin. And here I thought that part of my life had since passed. Marinette thinks to herself, wincing at the newly gained superficial graze across her palms. She clears her throat and attempts to look like she didn't just nearly fall off a half wall. “Catwoman's vouching for us? Since when? I've literally never encountered her before.”
Red Robin, the traitor, snorts at her predicament. “You are the epitome of elegance. And Detective Grayson's bumped into her a few times on the job.”
“Thanks.” She responds drily, layering on the sarcasm thickly. She shakes her head and sighs. “So do you know what the addresses are for the warehouses and this Mackey's apartment?”
He takes an excruciatingly slow sip of his coffee before speaking. “Of course I can, what kind of vigilante do you take me for?” He then proceeds to rattle off the addresses.
Which Marinette jots down on the napkin that came with her coffee, and puts it into a pocket for safekeeping. “Thank you.” With it written down, she pauses then starts kicking her legs in the air. She sniffs. “And I take you for the kind that flirts with innocent police officers.”
Red Robin grins at her as he gently elbows her in the ribs. “I don't hear you complaining.”
Marinette scoffs and slaps her hand to her chest in an overly dramatic mock of shock. “Unfair! If I complained I wouldn't get any hugs or kisses from you!”
Humming he wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple. “That's true, what a shame it would be for you to miss out on all those hugs.”
She hums back and the two ease into a comfortable silence; leaning against each other and sipping their coffees whilst staring at the night sky.
Once Marinette gets halfway through her coffee, she glances at Red Robin and hesitates, her earlier conversation with Detective Grayson springing to mind. “Communication is key in healthy relationships,” she prefaces, “so are you okay with our current relationship? Y'know the flirting, the not-dates, the whole me not knowing your identity?”
Red Robin laughs, sounding slightly bitter. “Of course I'm fine with the flirting and not-dates but I'm not going to lie and say I don't have any worries over you not knowing my identity. It's one of the reasons a relationship I had with a fellow mask didn't work out.” Rubbing at his jaw, he tilts his face away from her slightly, as though reminiscing about something. He then shakes his head and turns back to her. “Really, I ought to be asking you that. So what about you, are you okay with how our relationship is?”
Marinette hums. “This isn't the first time relationship I've had with a masked hero.” Then takes a calm sip of her coffee.
“So you've got a thing for masks then huh? Lucky me I guess.” He responds, smirking mischievously, and whilst she can't see the rest of his face thanks to the cowl, Marinette just knows that he's wiggling his eyebrows at her from underneath that cowl.
His comment nearly sends her tumbling off the half wall—again. She coughs and splutters in laughter as she nearly spits up her sip of coffee. It takes her a full thirty seconds to recover and mock gripes, “remind me why I love you again.”
Red Robin cocks his head to the side and grins. “Because I bring you coffee?”
She huffs, “good point.”
“So back to the mask thing, can I ask what happened with your masked hero relationship?” He asks, tone hesitant. He stares at her, ready to back off the topic at the slightest sign of discomfort from her.
Marinette hisses through her teeth and states, “I can trust you.”
His stare conveys an 'I would hope so' whilst he bobs his head a little in a 'yes you can' and a 'please continue' gesture.
She takes a deep breath before speaking, “I used to be a hero, back when I lived in Paris.”
“Oh?” Red Robin freezes, thrown off guard by her admission.
Nodding, Marinette continues. “It was difficult. We started when we were barely teens and had no training and no support except for temporary heroes we could bring in when the battles got too hard for just me and my partner to handle. When we started, we were repeatedly told to never, under any circumstances, let anyone find out our identities. My partner and I, neither of us knew who the other was beneath the mask. And we only knew the identities of the temporary heroes because we gave them the ability to become superheroes. But even then we didn't always know their real identities and they certainly never knew ours.”
“Yikes.” Is all he can respond with, mind racing with questions. “That can't have been good, at least I had Batman and Nightwing when I was starting out, but you had no one to talk to about being a mask, outside the mask.”
She flashes him a watery smile and sighs. “No, I did have someone. Tikki. But we're uh, not in contact any more. Since I retired.”
Still, Red Robin makes a noise of concern at that.
“Anyway, one thing led to another led to another, and my partner found out my identity.” Marinette puts her coffee down then tips her head back and closes her eyes. “We started dating not long after that. But once we defeated the BBEG terrorising Paris and some… concerning things came to light, our—we,” She shakes her head, “we realised that because of that, neither of us were emotionally able to continue our relationship in a romantic way. So we decided to stay friends and I—uh, I retired and moved to Gotham.”
He puts his coffee down as well, and pulls her into a tight hug, although making sure it wasn't too constricting as to not make her uncomfortable. “I'm sorry.”
She leans into the hug, rests her head on his shoulder, and delicately wraps her arms around him in return. “What? Why? It's not your fault.”
Red Robin frowns, not that she can see in their current position, “I know but no one should be forced into becoming a hero at such a young age with no support network.”
Huffing, Marinette buries her face in his shoulder, somewhat muffling her voice but not enough to make her unintelligible, “what about Spoiler? She became a hero around that age and had no support network.”
He sighs. “Spoiler chose to become a vigilante, she wasn't forced. And anyway, she had Robin and the rest of the bats to support her once they realised what she was doing.”
“Hmm… fair.” Marinette pulls back from the hug and pauses. “On a lighter note, I got a commission on my fashion site from Tim Drake-Wayne!”
Red Robin raises an eyebrow and with poorly concealed amusement, responds, “Oh? And what's so special about him”
She rolls her eyes at him. “He's the youngest fortune five hundred CEO, founded the Neon Knights among other charities, and often donates to various charities around Gotham! Plus Wayne Enterprises is one of, if not the most ethical company in the fortune five hundred bracket. Employees get living stipends, and training and higher education paid by the company. They get healthcare and dental insurance. They get flexible work hours, paid breaks, and receive above minimum wage pay!”
He laughs. “I guess he is a pretty decent sounding guy then.”
“Mhmm.”
“So what's the commission then? Or is it a secret?” He teases, leaning towards her.
Marinette dramatically places her hand over her heart. “I guess I can spare you the details this one time.”
“Wooh!”
She bites her lip before launching into a long ramble about the commission, gushing over what design and colour palette she's thinking of going with, what bots and bobs and patterns to add, what stitch to use and how to make sure it fits his style, etc.
Red Robin spends the entire time listening attentively, despite not really understanding half the fashion terms, and staring at her like a love-struck puppy.
“Damn, I love you!” He exclaims once she finishes speaking, then leans in to kiss her on the lips.
Marinette bursts into giggles and kisses him back. Her giggles are seemingly infectious, as once they part from the kiss, both are giggling and flushed red.
A bright flash of white followed by a camera shutter sound immediately distracts them both. They just manage to catch sight of Nightwing swinging away.
She gives him a look, which is somewhat less effective as she's still smiling from the kiss. “What happened to bribing Oracle, Black Bat, or Batgirl?”
Red Robin groans and drops his face into his hands. “Clearly Nightwing was able to one-up my bribe. Probably in the form of giving them copies of the photos both he and Detective Grayson have taken.”
“You mean to tell me those two are working together? No wonder Detective Grayson was asking about our relationship earlier today at work!” Marinette gasps, sounding mildly horrified and betrayed.
“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Red Robin asks, lifting his head up and grinning deviously at her.
She smirks back, “Revenge?”
He nods—the sagely kind of nod. “Revenge.”
==–==
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
@casual-darkness
#Miraculous Ladybug#ML x DC#DC x MLB#Maribat#Timinette#MariTim#Timari#Marinette x Tim#Tim x Marinette#Death is the Stage My Art is Your Grave#DitSMAiYG#DitSMAiYG Sequel#When Sitting on the Roof We are but Coffee Sleuths#WSotRWabCS#Sham's Posts#Sham's Writing#Sham's Fics
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writer’s ask game, all odd numbers, please! :)
1. Do you listen to music when you write?
I have on occasion, but in general, I don’t. I’ve found that I have a hard time filtering out background noise when it’s conversations or music.
3. Computer or pen and paper?
I used to be a little bit of both, but it’s more computer these days.
5. How much writing do you get done on an average day?
It varies a lot. Maybe a couple hundred words?
7. Standalone or series?
Both, I think.
9. Current WIP
Delicate and Playing With Fire. I suppose you could count Burning Bridges, though it’s not posted yet. I’ve been working on it more lately because figuring out Bea’s side of things is integral to a few plot points that are coming up.
11. Books and/or authors who influenced you the most
Meg Cabot, specifically Princess Diaries. Tamora Pierce (Alanna quartet).
(this next question got long, so I’m gonna throw in a page break out of consideration for your dash)
13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished
1. Have an idea while I’m supposed to be doing something else.
2. Open a Word document. Depending on where I am/how much time I have, write down some brief notes on the concept, possibly a few scenes. Give the Word document a vague filename. Working naming convention is Untitled HP [number].
4. Attempt to write the first chapter.
5. Promise self that I will not post chapter until I’ve written a few more chapters.
6. Get ideas for scenes not in that chapter. Put into a document titled Nonlinear excerpts.
7. Write more of first chapter.
8. Finish rough draft. Rough draft may be mostly complete or be a hot mess of text that includes helpful notes like ??????? to remind myself where I still need to figure out plot issues or write giant chunks of text. Select all, cut, and paste into new document.
9. Do a line by line edit, gradually moving my rough draft from Document B back to the original document. Delete or smooth out ????? sections as I go.
10. At some point, my computer will crash or I’ll forget to charge it and it’ll shut off.
11. Say a bunch of swear words.
12. Recover document/lost work.
13. Vow to stop writing like this because I should know better at this point.
14. Continue with editing.
15. Repeat steps 8-15 an undetermined number of times. May not always need to do the cut/paste method, especially as chapter gets into later drafts.
16. Get excited about fic and decide to ignore the promise I made to myself back in step 5.
17. Comb through Taylor Swift discography trying to find an appropriate title.
18. Repeat step 18, but for the chapter title. (Alternatively, come up with a chapter title right away and still not know what the damn fic is called.)
19. Spend approximately 40 earth years trying to figure out a summary.
20. Come up with a summary that is 2 characters over FF.net’s character limit. Spend another 40 earth years trying to reword it so it doesn’t.
21. At some point, create an image for the fic, probably when I’m supposed to be doing something else.
22. Post fic.
23. Obsessively refresh inbox to see if people liked it or not.
24. Start chapter 2. Wonder why I did not write it before posting chapter 1.
25. Any one of the above steps can be replaced by getting distracted by Tumblr, other fics, daydreaming, scenes in my current WIP that are not in the chapter that I’m working on, the news, or pretty much anything else.
15. How do you deal with writer’s block?
Lots of staring at my word document and sighing. Daydreaming. Working on other projects.
17. What writing habits or rituals do you have?
the copy/paste edit method described in question 13. My fanfic is always written in Times New Roman (Calibri is for work). I have no explanation for this.
19. How do you keep yourself motivated?
Strategic guilt. And honestly, the fact that people seem to care about the story is hugely motivating.
21. Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write?
Fred and George, probably. The banter is so fun.
23. Favourite author
I have to pick one!?!
25. Favourite part of writing
I love telling stories and exploring different worlds/possibilities.
27. Favourite line/scene
I think it might be Bea saying “I refuse to apologize for who I am!” in response to being asked if she had bacon in her pocket.
29. Favourite villain
My fics don’t really have villains other than Voldemort. And angst, I suppose.
31. Least favourite part of writing
Transitional/connective parts always seem to trip me up.
33. Have you ever killed a main character?
Nope.
35. What scene/story are you least looking forward to writing?
Right now, Chapter 14 of Delicate haas been giving me trouble. I know what needs to happen, but writing it has been a challenge.
37. First sentence or your current WIP
PWF: I knew I would have to dance with one of them before the thought even crossed McGonagall’s mind.
Delicate: Alicia and Lee could have gotten married in London.
Burning Bridges: I’m reluctant to start this account with the story of a shitty boyfriend.
39. Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had.
A Squib who owns a pub in Diagon Alley.
41. Any advice for new/beginning/young writers?
You will make mistakes and that is okay.
43. What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?
Fred Weasley has little respect for my outlines, so this happens a lot. Sometimes, I try reworking the scene a bit; on other occasions, I’ve been like “you know what, you’re right this time. Scrap the outline, let’s explore this path instead.”
45. How much world building do you do?
I tend to fall into little world building rabbit holes as I write--it’s very unpredictable, so I don’t know if I can answer this question properly.
47. Best way to procrastinate
Writing or falling down weird internet rabbit holes.
49. Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?
Of my characters, Bea Pierce. In the wider world of fiction, Leslie Knope and Gandalf.
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😳😳 I promise it wasn't meant to be this long I PROMISSSEEE
Anyways here you go for the fic written with a random character of my choice <3
———
Gopher giggled as they reblogged the post.
'Reblog if you dare someone to write a fic about you and a character of their choosing...'
It was sort of silly, but the idea of being inside of a fic seemed pretty entertaining. They also knew some damn good writers and knew they would come up with something good. All they had to do now was... sit and wait.
Gopher could be patient, but eventually they had their limits. An hour passed by and, after refreshing their activity page about a thousand times, they decided that they would rather waste their time on something more important than just prowling around on Tumblr.
...and that something important was sketching Michael again. They pulled out their tablet and pencil, set up their computer, and got to work. They drew until their eyes burned from the blue light illuminating off their screen. A yawn caught in the back of their throat and just then they finally took the opportunity to glance at the clock in the corner of their screen.
1:28 AM
Damn, they hadn't even realized they had been drawing for that long. No wonder they felt so tired... They glanced back at their drawing and worried at their lip as they considered their options. Head to bed— or continue. Though the prospect of passing out on their nice warm bed sounded amazing, there were a few more details they had yet to fill in. Their hand made the decision for them, moving forwards and penning at the dark tablet sensors.
Their eyes felt heavy, lids staying shut every time they blinked.
Just... one more... line...
They tried to encourage themself, but their mind was slipping already. Before they knew it, they had passed out on top of their tablet, face pressed against the cool screen.
"Excuse me... sir—" They were awoken by a voice calling out to them, one they didn't particularly recognize. Their eyes slowly opened and they squinted as they were blinded by bright hues of red and gold. "Ah, you're finally awake."
Their brows furrowed and a hand came up to lazily rub at their eyes. After the sleep had been rubbed out of them, they finally opened their eyes and took in their surroundings. They soon came to the realization that they weren't on their couch anymore.
They were sat in a booth, covered in a deep velvet cloth that felt way too expensive for their tastes. Red was the main color of everything in the room. The booth seats, the carpet, even the walls followed the same crimson pattern. The only thing that wasn't red were the shiny gold prices put in place around the room to accent it, and the large golden chandelier that hung right in front of the stairs that lead to their seat. They were amazed, and confused.
Even more confused when they caught sight of the man who had been trying to wake them. A pale man, tall, and with a very nice trim tuxedo stood before them. He had long raven hair that was pulled back in a neat ponytail and handsome chiseled features. The thing that was the most concerning to them, though, was the eyepatch that seemed to be carefully placed over his left eye.
His hand had been placed on their shoulder, and it appeared that he had been trying to shake them awake for a while. A polite smile came to his features.
"Are ya alright? Ya've been passed out here for a while." They looked up at him with big doe eyes. They... they couldn't believe what they were seeing. They had to be dreaming. Right? There is no way they couldn't be dreaming. They were currently sat in front of a fictional character their friend Goro had been simping over for the past few months. There was no way this wasn't a dream!
"I... who are you?" They managed after a moment. The man pulled his hand away from their shoulder and instead smoothly moved into a curt bow.
"Majima Goro. I'm the manager of the Grand." He answered. They sucked in a breath, now even more confused. They cursed themselves for not knowing more about the Yakuza series, would have made the situation a bit less awkward maybe.
"What's... what's the Grand?" They muttered out their question, and Majima glanced up at them with a confused look.
"Ah... it's a cabaret club. You're... in it right now." He explained, furrowing his brows.
"Oh... yeah." They pretended to understand. This definitely was a dream... but for some reason everything felt so real. They could feel the soft velvet against their skin as they sat up, they could smell the overhang of booze and nicotine in the air. It made their nose wrinkle with disgust. Plus, how could they appear in a building that existed within the game if they had never known about it. It... didn't make sense.
"You're a foreigner, yeah?" Majima spoke again, "Did ya get drunk n' pass out in the booth? I don't remember ya being here last night."
"I don't remember being here either. I actually don't know how I got here." They admitted, and he shot them a surprised look.
"Well... as far as I'm concerned, customer is king. I don't mind ya bein' here as long as ya don't cause any problems." He finally said. Gopher nodded in agreement to the conditions. "Ya remember anything before ya got here?"
"Yeah... I was at my house drawing and then all of a sudden I was here."
"At your house?"
"Yeah. I live in America by the way." They assumed they must now be in Japan. Majima shot them a surprised look.
"That... really is a long way away. And that's all ya remember?" Gopher nodded. Majima looked puzzled. Before he could give his two cents on how exactly they must have ended up here, he was interrupted by Gopher's stomach giving a loud groan of disapproval.
"Ah— are ya hungry? I guess if ya came all the way from America ya would be hungry, right?" He looked just as confused as they felt, "Ya can order somethin' if you would like."
"I would but I don't exactly have any money on me." Gopher admitted.
"It's fine. It'll be on the house. Whaddya want?" He offered quickly. They paused for a moment at the question.
"Whatever you have." He nodded at the request.
"I'll be back, then." He bowed again and headed down the stairs. It really was a beautiful building. It was strange to think that he managed it all. But that wasn't the subject at hand.
There had to be an explanation for this. It didn't feel like a dream at all. In fact, it felt quite real. Everything was nailed down to the last detail, almost as if it had been carefully written by someone on the other half of a screen... It was strange. It didn't make sense.
"I wasn't sure what ya would like so I brought ya a fruit platter. Ya can pick and choose what ya like. We ain't exactly git sustainable food cause we ain't a restaurant y'know, but it'll do." He announced as he walked back up the steps, tray in hand. He placed the tray in front of them, and it held all types of fruit. Some they had never even seen before. They pick and chose their favorites and began to eat.
"Thank you." They almost forgot to mutter. Majima just nodded. He stayed standing next to the table, almost awkwardly. Gopher finally realized after a few moments that the rest of the cabaret club was completely quiet other than them.
"If it's a cabaret club, shouldn't there be more people here?"
"We were goin' to open, but then I spotted ya. I didn't want to open and leave ya stranded in here, thought it'd be best to check up on ya first." He admitted. Gopher was almost surprised by his politeness.
"Well, thanks for that. And the food." Majima just nodded curtly.
"Any ideas as to why ya ended up here?" He questioned.
"Not exactly. Just... fell asleep and then I was here. It doesn't make much sense." Majima hummed thoughtfully for a moment and glanced up at the perfectly painted tan ceiling. After a few moment his eye moved back down to theirs.
"Maybe ya should go back to sleep? If it brought ya here, it might also get ya outta here?" He offered his insight.
"True. But that seems too easy." He shrugged.
"You'll never know till ya try it." Gopher nodded along with agreement, setting the plate aside.
"True. I guess I could try it..." They yawned and spread their arms out across the table, laying their head in their hands. An overwhelming wave of tiredness suddenly crashed over them. It was almost as if Majima had casted a spell on them, forcing sleep to overtake their body.
"Ya look sleepy already."
"Yeah..." They muttered, eyelids already fluttering shut.
"Well then don't let me disturb ya."
"Majima?" Gopher piped up, their voice barely a whisper.
"Yeah?"
"It was nice meeting you." A few moments of silence passed. Gopher was sure they must have fallen back asleep at that point and he had already vanished, but after a few moments his voice came in crisp and clear.
"It was nice meeting ya too."
Gopher woke up in their room.
****
Bro, I love this. I will admit, the “Ah, you’re finally awake” made me stop and think, No no, this isnt a fucking skyrim meme in disguise is it, and thankfully it was something So Much Better! THANK YOUUUU GOROOOOO
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Four Walls (Of Law Firms and Honey) - Olicity AU, Explicit
Summary: Oliver is Felicity’s boss at Queen & Queen, a prestigious international law firm. She’s the tech genius, he’s the top dog’s son, and they viciously disagree on nearly everything. Despite that, they work together, neither outright acknowledging the ever-present simmering attraction that has slowly been growing hotter and hotter…
Until a chance meeting at a grocery store one night has them crossing a line, a tiny little line that was never meant to be crossed.
A collection of ficlets in the same ‘verse: Of Law Firms and Honey.
Rated: Explicit
Full fic: AO3 | Tumblr | Timeline
Reminder: This is not a story about love. This is a story that ends in love, but it definitely does not start that way.
Please read the story tags and notes at the beginning of each chapter.
This fic is being told out of order. Please see the timeline to read them in order. Please see the previous installments for additional author notes and story information.
Check out the Four Walls playlist, and if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!
Additional A/N: This was originally intended for Olicity Clue, but I’m super late on that now. My prompts were Felicity’s glasses, Queen Consolidated, and Isabel Rochev. This is partially written for a Fic For Food Drive I’m taking part in (please check out the details here, and consider donating!), and I say partially because I intend on writing something else in this series for a generous donor.
(read on AO3)
10:06 p.m. Queen & Queen
“There you are. Of course you’re in the last box I check.”
Felicity fished out the honey, destroying her beautiful packing job in the process. Her stapler fell over and the Doctor Who mug she used for her pens and pencils tipped precariously against the tray filled with projects she wanted to finish. Projects you should probably delegate since you, you know, have people to delegate to now. Felicity made a face. Yes, fine, it was a logical idea, but they were hers, damn it. It was her blood and sweat that had made them, and she wanted to finish them the way only she knew how.
Not very boss-like of you.
“Learning curve,” she grumbled. She pulled the bottle out with a triumphant, “Ha!”
Silver caught her eye and she inched her door open to see the letters fully.
Felicity M. Smoak
Director of Information Technologies
With a smile, Felicity brushed her fingers over her new title like she had, oh, twenty thousand times over the last two weeks. Her name, on her door, on her corner office - her huge corner office with glass walls that turn opaque when you click a switch, and a bathroom, and a couch… Everything was looking up. She was settling into her promotion, she was getting dinner with Caitlin and Barry this weekend, she had been given leeway to hire more techs to go along with being given the reigns for setting up the system at the new Queen Consolidated…
Everything was good.
Her computer dinged.
The smile evaporated as she spun to her desk.
“No.” Felicity hurried over to her computer. The thick area rug she’d bought first thing muffled the smack of her bare feet until she hit the marble floor again. “You’re not supposed to find anything, what are you finding?”
She landed in her chair with a plop so hard it sent her chair - an ergonomic monstrosity that still reeked of plastic from being packed away - rolling. She grabbed her desk to stop from crashing into the credenza behind her. The honey bottle got in the way and she tossed it away, sending it rolling into her still-steaming mug. Tea sloshed over the sides, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were too busy bouncing between the three screens before her, looking for what had made that very specific noise that had all the hair on the back of her neck rising.
Foreign code was in the system.
In her system.
“Frak,” Felicity breathed, attacking her keyboard. “Frak.”
A few keystrokes later, the alien code popped up on the middle screen, and she was ready to launch into a full-on attack…
Felicity frowned.
It was her code.
“What the hell?” she whispered.
It had her framework, her technique, but it was nothing like what she used here, at all. And nothing she had used, considering it was missing her signature. Which meant someone else had used her code on her servers. And simplistic as it was, it was still hers and very capable of doing damage. Which it had, she discovered with a curse, as she dug deeper, tripping over holes where files had once been. Not that it was hard - everything this person had touched was a flashing red hot mess that she would have eventually found anyway because they hadn’t even tried to cover their tracks.
So it was stolen and sloppy.
“Oh. Hell. No. You steal from me, and then you use it on my servers, and you don’t even try to pretend you didn’t? Do you even know who you’re messing with? Ooh no, no, no…”
It took all of twenty-three seconds to follow the trail.
She expected it to be from outside the building, to lead back to some whippersnapper who didn’t know who she was, and who was about to learn that when you mess with her company, you’re messing with her…
But it didn’t.
It led to a terminal right here in the building: QQ112.
Her chest hollowed, buzzing filling her ears, scorching heat numbing her fingers.
It was impossible to remember who was assigned to every computer at Queen & Queen. A handful stuck in her mind from her technician days. The attorneys who barely knew how to open their email. The users who lacked any common sense when it came to downloading any old thing they found on the internet. Those who thought they hid their browsing history on the extremely not-safe-for-work side of Reddit, and those who didn’t even bother. The ones who insisted on fixing problems themselves and always wound up making it worse.
And Oliver Queen’s computer.
She fought to breathe as she stared at the letter and number sequence. She waited for it to change, to become something else, attached to someone else, to not be this. But nothing happened.
Except something had happened, hadn’t it?
Ice scored her insides.
She had shown him that code months ago, before anything had happened between them, back when she thought he might have been a friend. She had shown it to him as a courtesy, to teach, to spread the knowledge and maybe make Queen & Queen better by association. Not to use it against his own firm’s servers. Not to use her code on Q&Q’s servers. If someone who knew half of anything happened to be in there, they would be able to spot it.
They would be able to trace it back to her.
“Son of a bitch.”
Rage tore into her gut.
“What did you do?” Felicity growled. She went after the code with a fervor that had her keyboard scooting over the desk with every furious keystroke. Her eyes darted across her screens as she used everything she could think of to find out exactly what he had been doing. Angry tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away rapidly with a harsh curse. No. He didn’t deserve her tears. He didn’t deserve anything. She forced herself to breathe through a growing pressure in her chest, but all she could manage were short, sporadic breaths as she murmured, “You bastard. You stupid, stupid bastard…”
He had used the code two times. Both in January.
Felicity’s fingers faltered.
She hadn’t found out about her promotion until February.
The word sabotage seared her mind.
Is that what this was? They were co-directors now, more or less. They shared the department instead of her answering to him. She had taken his old position as Director of IT and a new one had been created for him - Director of Production. She had no idea what happened behind closed doors, but she’d wondered if everything she had done here - all that Oliver had taken credit for - had finally seen the light of day.
Or was this something else? Was it about Isabel, about the holiday party, about the horrible night that had followed here before she started separating herself from him and the debauched things they had done the last few months?
Fire ripped through her and more goddamn tears burned the back of her throat.
Isabel was gone and things hadn’t gone back to the way they were before.
Did he think they would?
Felicity fought to keep her hands from shaking - with anger, she told herself.
Things would never go back to the way they were. Because she didn’t want them to. Because she didn’t want him. She didn’t like waking up looking for him, missing his touch, or that there was an emptiness she couldn’t explain inside her. She hated that she felt anything at all. She hated what they had done. She hated who she was with him. She didn’t want whatever had been between them. And things were good now, she was happy, she was-
There.
He had deleted…
Emails?
Felicity leaned closer to the middle screen, as if she could make sense of the data fragments, but they were too broken still.
The only good thing about him using her code was she was able to deconstruct it quickly. Her code was effective, but it was simple, and it had nothing against the algos she threw at it to put them back together. If it had been someone else’s, it might have taken longer. But it was hers and she had a backup on top of her backups, and it was just a matter of time before she would see what he had destroyed…
All too soon bits and pieces of correspondence appeared. Broken email chains without senders or recipients, or dates or times, the words appearing in splintered sentences that had just enough for her to try and make sense of them.
It’s being split. I brought this up last month anyway,
It’s hers
Call me when you’re out
What do you want
Are you positive?
It can go out next week if you want
CONFIDENTIAL
We had an agreement. This is what you’ve been working towards. Are you sure?
Do you have any idea what you’re doing?
I found them
Let me know and we will get this in motion
I don’t think that’s a good idea
We have a deal
Call me.
yes
It’s best for everyone to get Felicity out
“Get Felicity out of what?” she demanded.
She tried to beef up the program to make it work faster, but there was too much information to cull through to find what was missing from the servers. Felicity huffed, even though she knew it was going as fast as it could within its limits. But waiting for every piece to appear, in the right order? She cursed under her breath. Her leg bounced in time with the speed of her thoughts, nearly matching the agitated beat of her heart. Pinpricks of heat danced over her cheeks, burning. It wasn’t until a lance of pain sliced through her jaw that she realized she had been chewing on the edge of her lip enough to tear a piece of skin.
“Ow,” she hissed, grimacing when her tongue touched the tiny wound. The taste of copper flooded her mouth.
Email addresses.
“Oh,” she blurted.
She could narrow the search to see who was involved. She hammered at the keyboard, changing the directives, switching priority to email addresses, and to order them by the amount of emails they appeared in.
A list immediately began populating.
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
The floor fell out from under her.
Felicity stared at the last one, waiting for it to pop up and explain itself, but it didn’t. Instead a boulder crushed her chest and the back of her neck burned as ice showered her insides.
“I thought I’d find you up here, Oliver.”
“I see old habits die hard.”
“I like your shoes.”
“Isabel knows.”
The list continued.
“What?” she breathed at the last one, but before she could even begin to put any of it together, the program started bringing up the corresponding emails. Her email address was attached to only one, and the subject simply read:
Please see the attached.
It wasn’t done loading, but she didn’t wait, opening it anyway. There was nothing in the body of the email. It was just the attachment, addressed to her…
And Oliver.
The attachment was a video.
From Isabel.
“Oh god,” she choked out, her stomach twisting. Her hands shook so hard the keyboard rattled and she snatched them back, digging her nails into her palms. She stared at the email, dread coating her insides like tar.
She told herself it was because it was still loading that she didn’t immediately hit play, but even when it finished - even when the other emails finished coming together - she didn’t touch it.
Felicity wasn’t sure how long she sat there until she finally opened the video.
All she saw were black and white flickers and pixelated snippets. The cursor along the bottom told her it was playing, but nothing showed up, and for a blissful second she let herself believe it was nothing.
Then an image appeared.
An agonized moan fell from deep in her chest.
It was her and Oliver, in an elevator. He had her pinned to one of the walls, his face buried in her neck, one hand in her hair, making a mess of it, the other migrating down her neck, then her chest. She didn’t have to watch to remember the feel of his fingers slipping inside the band of her skirt and yanking her blouse out where it was tucked, so hard it tore one of her buttons. She had one of her legs up as much as her skirt would allow and wrapped around his, so damn eager that she hadn’t cared in the slightest where they were.
Isabel had this.
Her stomach pitched until she thought she was going to be sick.
In a twisted haze, Felicity watched her own hands claw down his back, raking over Oliver’s suit jacket where it strained against the width of his shoulders. She dug her nail into his neck. Her eyes half-closed, her mouth slack in pleasure, so obviously flushed despite the grey wash of the video. She remembered waking up with hickeys and bite marks all over her neck and chest. She had been so mad, she numbly recalled. But not while it was happening. Never while it was happening.
The Plaza, she remembered. They had used the suite the firm kept there for high-end clients.
“They never check the records, Smoak. They don’t want to know.”
The video abruptly switched, and it showed her walking backwards with Oliver following her down the hallway, towards the Premier Suite.
It occurred to Felicity in that second that it wasn’t showing his face.
There was no way there wasn’t video somewhere of him - entering the elevator, at the very least, because someone else had been on there when they’d first gotten on. Oliver had been standing next to her, only attacking her when the person got off a floor later. But the way the video played, if someone didn’t know, it looked like Felicity was taking some random person up to the suite.
His back was still to the camera as they reached the door. She had the key card, having taken it from him earlier, and she slipped it into the lock. She twisted the handle before turning to enter the room backwards. The soft lights overhead reflected on her glasses as she grabbed Oiver’s tie and yanked him in with her.
A blip of static overtook the screen and then it showed her slipping out of the room some time later, head bowed, her hair up in a chaotic ponytail, her clothes askew, her heels in-hand as she hurried to the elevator.
Alone.
It was all her.
The numbness cracked, just enough to take a breath, to frown, to think.
Felicity switched back to the email from Isabel. Short. Simple. To the point. To both her and Oliver.
So why…?
But if someone knew it was Oliver with her, that they were using the suite under his name, under the firm’s name, then there wouldn’t be much reproach, would there? Because regardless of his status within the firm, he was still a Queen. A hand-slapping, perhaps, and she would surely get reprimanded in some way.
Just her, though? Seemingly taking advantage of the firm like this?
But then why had she gotten the promotion she’d been angling for since long before Oliver swooped in and stole it out from under her last year?
She shook her head. None of it made sense.
Heart fluttering so fast it hurt, Felicity flipped through the other emails. There were so many of them, a couple dozen easily, most of them formalities, simple back and forths, nothing substantive. The ones between Oliver and his father were the most confusing, both of them talking in shorthand about a plan, something Oliver had been working towards, their conversations talking around something they both obviously knew and didn’t need to explain.
She stopped when she saw an email from [email protected] to [email protected].
No subject, no body, not even a signature.
Just an attachment.
A draft announcement naming Isabel Rochev as CEO of the newly formed Queen Consolidated.
Release date: March 1.
Felicity stared at the mockup uncomprehendingly. She read the words over and over until they blurred. She noted the empty spot where Isabel’s picture would go. She stared at the question mark after the date in parentheses. She tried to think, to understand what she was seeing, what she had seen. What had happened. How it had happened… and all without her ever knowing. It was blackmail, plain as day. Isabel had the perfect leverage in her possession.
And she had used it to get what she wanted.
“Oh my god,” Felicity blurted. “What did you do? What did you do?”
She grabbed her phone with trembling hands, swiping it open, going straight to her phone app. Muscle memory dialed the number she could never forget, but when his name appeared because her phone recognized it, her heart spasmed and she almost hit the END button.
A soft trill echoed from down the hallway.
Felicity’s head jerked up, her breath catching.
Another trill, so faint she barely heard it.
But she did.
Her phone hit her desk with a thud, but she didn’t hear it, already up and out the door. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she followed the ringing past darkened offices, a copy room, the shadowed kitchen, to the opposite corner of the floor.
To his office.
The trill abruptly stopped followed by a harsh, “What?”
She heard it from the open door that came into view when she turned the corner.
A nervous wash of adrenaline crashed through her veins, especially when a softer, “Felicity?” followed. The closer she got, the more her limbs felt like they were going to shatter, each step shakier than the last. “Felicity?”
She heard him so clearly her mouth went dry.
Felicity stopped when she reached his door.
Oliver stood by his sitting area, just like the one she had, his office a mirror version of hers. He had a sheaf of paper in one hand, his phone in the other, a dark glower on his face as he glared at the little coffee table before him.
Her chest squeezed tight.
It had been so long since she’d been in here - so long since she’d seen him, period. He seemed bigger, yet somehow he took up less space. His muscles were bulkier, but his waist was leaner. His face had a gauntness that hadn’t been there before, his jaw sharp and angular. His tie was off, the first buttons of his shirt undone, the sleeves rolled up in messy bunches, his hair askew from running his hands through it. Dark circles underlined his eyes and in place of his signature scruff was the beginning of an unkempt beard.
She had deliberately not sought him out. She didn’t look for him. She barely offered him a glance when they had to interact outside of telephone calls or emails.
He looked like hell.
She stepped inside.
“Are you…?” he started before he saw her.
Oliver’s words died off, surprise widening his eyes. Then he frowned, and the closer she got, the deeper the furrow between his brow went.
“Felicity?” he said, his voice low, rough. “What’s wrong-”
She grabbed his face with both hands as she pushed up onto her toes and kissed him.
He froze. She barely noticed under the press of his lips to hers again. They were dry, chapped, but still so soft, just like she remembered.
Felicity whimpered and grasped him tighter, pressing closer, kissing him harder. The little wound she’d given herself a few minutes ago burned under the pressure, but the pain only edged the heady sensation of his mouth against hers again. God, she had missed it, she had missed him, more than she wanted to admit. But it was impossible to deny right now, when it had been months, when the last time she had kissed him had been in anger, her only intent to hurt and maim, to inflict the pain she’d felt. There was none of that now. This was different.
He stood stock still. He didn’t even breathe, stiff and unrelenting, implacable.
Until he wasn’t.
Oliver melted into her.
She gasped at the abrupt surrender, the sound morphing into a strung out cry as he kissed her back. He dropped the papers and his phone, both landing with a thud, the papers hitting her naked toes, but she barely felt it. He wound his arms around her and yanked her off her feet.
It had been so long.
Too long.
Felicity opened her mouth at the same time he did, their tongues meeting halfway. She groaned at the first taste, eclipsing his breathy whine. He clutched her hard as he bowed forward, chasing the kiss with vigor, his tongue spearing into her mouth. Her knees buckled, her feet hitting the ground in an uncoordinated mess, and it was only because of his hold that she didn’t fall. But then she pushed off the floor, shoving back against him, kissing him with equal ardor. Teeth collided, lips yanking, pulling, sucking, tongues exploring and tasting and tangling. Despite how they chased each other, he still eclipsed her, surrounding her, swallowing her up. She whimpered at the overwhelming sensation and he drank it all in as his hands roamed all over her, before falling to her ass. He gripped her so hard she broke away with a cry.
He didn’t let her get far, though, and she didn’t want him to.
Not anymore.
Oliver captured her mouth again, sucking on her bottom lip, groaning when she nipped at him.
The back of her legs collided with something hard before she even realized they were moving. The coffee table. The heavy, low-sitting furniture scooted across the floor, but they just followed it. Oliver urged her down with hard hands. Felicity clawed into his shoulders, unwilling to release his lips, forcing him to follow her as she laid back on the table. It was awkward and uneven, but neither of them cared, or bothered to fix it, because it meant stopping, and that couldn’t happen. Oliver loomed over her, gripping the edges of the table, his muscles rippling to keep from crushing her as he ravaged her mouth with a thoroughness that left her head spinning.
But then all too soon, he was wrenching away.
With a ragged gasp of air and fogged glasses, Felicity arched up to follow him - don’t go, don’t stop, don’t - but he just fell to his knees before her. She tried to spread her legs to wrap around him, needing to feel him pressed against her as much as possible, but her skirt was too tight. She frantically yanked it up as his hands flew to his belt and pants.
Heavy breathing and the rustle of clothes were the only sounds for a moment.
Pants half-hanging open, Oliver grappled for his wallet. He ripped it out of his pocket and dug out a square package. He tossed the leather away as Felicity pushed her panties down, pulling her legs up enough to yank them down one leg, leaving them hanging off her foot as she spread for him.
Oliver’s eyes dropped to her sex. Mouth swollen, cheeks flushed, lids heavy, he stared at her as he rolled the condom down his length, his pupils eclipsing the stormy blue as he drank her in.
A shiver shot down her spine.
She missed this, missed how he looked at her, half-drunk with need that matched her own.
“Please,” she begged, grasping the edges of the table and scooting closer to him. “Oliver.”
He grabbed her hips, yanking her until her ass hung off the edge. The swollen head of his cock rubbed up her cleft, and then back down, nudging her entrance.
“Yes-”
Oliver thrust in, hard and fast.
Felicity shouted at the intrusion. Her back bowed, her eyes squeezing shut as he filled her to the brim. The pressure was incredible, his girth stretching her nearly to the point of pain. She felt him in every inch of her body and it stole the air right out of her lungs.
“Shit,” Oliver gasped, his hands grabbing her waist as he pulled back out. “I’m sorry-”
“No,” Felicity pleaded. “Don’t-”
She found his hips and yanked him inside her once more. She hissed when he stretched her so wide it was all she could to keep breathing. But she did, and she angled her hips to take him in even deeper. She hadn’t realized how much she had shut down, shut him out, not even entertaining the option, to the point she wasn’t ready for him like she would have been before. But she would be, again. She knew if they kept moving, her body would catch up. It would.
Her name fell off his lips in a choked moan as his fingers dug into her ribs.
To stop her. To pull out. To leave her.
Felicity shook her head wildly.
“No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she babbled breathlessly, but her voice breaking betrayed her. She arched up to keep him inside her. “It’s just… been a while, I’m… I’m okay, I’m not… I can’t… Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop-”
She was begging him.
The anguish in her voice sliced her heart to ribbons. She felt ready to burst into a thousand pieces, for a thousand different reasons, and absolutely none of them made sense. She had prided herself on keeping her distance, on being stronger than whatever was between them, on being able to walk away.
But now all of that was gone in the blink of an eye, just gone, as if it had never been there.
The realization tore through her and Felicity fell back against the table with a broken cry.
All of it had been a lie. She was a lie. Everything she told herself she felt was a lie.
Another sob threatened to escape, but she bit it back. Because the only thing that mattered in this moment was staying here. With him. She needed to be here - with him - and she couldn’t think about it, about what it meant. She could only feel.
She only wanted to feel.
“Please,” Felicity breathed, arching up again, her legs winding around him, her nails scrabbling under his shirt. “Don’t stop. Please-”
“I’m not,” Oliver whispered in a rush, falling over her. It changed the angle of his hardness inside her and she whimpered as he cupped her face on a ragged, “I’m not stopping. Ever,” before his lips found hers in a burning kiss.
It matched her desperation so perfectly that tears burned her eyes. It shouldn’t soothe her, and she knew that. But it did, and it felt so good, so right, to be here, to be back with him. But it was more than that. It grounded her, in a way she couldn’t do herself. She mewled, opening for him, winding her arms around his shoulders. He kissed her until they were both gasping for air, and then he kissed her even more, deeper, harder.
He invaded her in every way possible.
More.
Felicity twisted his shirt, twisting it, yanking. She slid one hand under the collar, and then his undershirt. His skin was blisteringly hot against her palm, and she moaned, kissing him harder as she dug her nails into his muscles. His hips jerked into hers, and this time they both moaned when he slid in a little easier, sending tiny bolts of pleasure through her.
“Off,” she mumbled, tugging at his shirt. “Off.”
He didn’t bother with the buttons, ripping his dress shirt off along with his undershirt. Buttons went scattering, but Felicity barely heard them pinging, or felt the ones that hit her as she yanked her own shirt off.
Her breath caught at the sight he made. His abs stood out in stark relief, too stark, the lines of his body harsh and rigid, a wall of pure muscle. He had always been well-defined, but this was extreme. Felicity flattened her hands to his stomach and smoothed them. She was transfixed by the feel of his hot, silky skin over such hardness, her fingers ghosting over his taut nipples, his rock-hard pecs…
“C’mere,” Oliver grunted, hooking his fingers in the front of her bra and yanking her up.
The lace tore across her skin and she yelped as she crashed into his chest. The pain only fueled her need as the new angle had him shifting inside her again, gasoline on a fire, turning a simmer into an inferno.
Felicity’s teeth found his collarbone.
He cried out, grabbing the back of her neck. He crowded her closer as she worked her way up his neck, savoring his salty taste, sucking and nipping, leaving little marks that would be there for days.
“Fuck… Felicity…”
She’d never heard her name so many times from him like this. She was always Smoak. But not right now, and the knowledge that he was just as undone as she was had her licking and sucking harder, wanting to hear more of it. He gave it to her, a raspy plea as he turned his face into her hair, his breathing hot and damp, his fingers digging into her neck as she marked him, up his throat, his jaw…
On a groan, Oliver captured her lips with his as he inched his hips forward.
He filled her up, so much more smoothly, so good, so perfectly. Burning need arched through her, the pressure changing, her slickening inner walls clamping down on him. Oliver swallowed down her cries, matching them with his own as he pulled out a bit to thrust back in. He rubbed against her with each thrust, his pubic bone hitting her clit, sending little bursts of pleasure sparking through her. She keened, clinging to him, and he did it again, and again, slow and steady, making sure she was ready for him.
“Yes,” she whimpered, grabbing his face, kissing them both breathless. “Yes.”
His fingers found the clasp of her bra. He undid it quickly and pushed her back down to the table.
The cold tabletop was a shock, but then Oliver was pulling her bra off, tossing it away…
And then all she felt was the burn of his gaze, and then his hands as he grasped her waist.
His hips slowed as he stared at her with unfathomable eyes, so dark, so intense. It was almost like he couldn’t get enough of what he saw. Captivated. Transfixed. His gaze danced all over her, up her chest, her neck, her mouth, then back down to her breasts, her abdomen.
“Felicity…”
He dragged her name out, tasting every single syllable. Did he know what he was saying? He couldn’t, she thought, not with how he looked at her, or how he touched her. There was a reverence that hadn’t been there before.
Felicity’s heart skipped, her mouth going dry, her stomach fluttering.
She had missed him, so much, and not just his body. But that was the confusing part. They didn’t have a relationship. They didn’t have anything.
And yet… the way he looked at her… how he made her feel…
“Felicity…”
She shivered, and fought to breathe, but then he was touching her. Oliver smoothed his hands up her waist, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts before slipping back down, one hand cupping her ribs, the other spanning the width of her stomach…
So soft.
So gentle.
Felicity shuddered, goosebumps erupting over her skin. They sent another shiver ripping down her spine, and another. The goosebumps spread everywhere, her chest, her stomach, her breasts, peaking her nipples into hard little beads that ached.
It was nothing compared to the way he stared at her.
It was too much.
“Oliver,” Felicity choked.
His dark gaze flew to hers and her heart clenched at the look in them.
Too much.
She grabbed his hands and slid them up to her breasts, cupping herself with his fingers. Lust slackened his face and he took over, squeezing them before raking his thumbs over her nipples. Pleasure spiked through her and she moaned, loudly, and he did it again.
“Yes,” she breathed, nodding, closing her eyes as she arched her back, rocking her hips. “Please. I need you-”
On a harsh growl, Oliver squeezed her breasts, so hard and fast it took her breath away. Using his grasp on her to keep her still, he thrust into her, burying himself as deep as he could. Her hands scrambled up his arms for something to hold onto as he gripped her breasts, relentless and unforgiving, and thrust into her again. Again. Again.
“Oh… god!” she cried. “Oh… oh god…!”
Oliver fell on top of her, pinning her to the table, spreading her legs impossibly wide.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his mouth finding hers in a messy kiss.
She struggled to respond, but his demanding lips stole her ability to do anything. He ripped away only to shove his hands up into her hair. He destroyed her ponytail, pulling on the long strands until enough was free so he could make tight fists. Oliver braced himself over her and used his new leverage to pull out nearly all the way before thrusting home, so hard the table shook. Felicity shouted, grabbing his sides for something to hold onto. She was completely at his mercy and it had a rush of arousal sweeping through her, her juices flooding her sex, a desperate ache for him to fuck her sensenless razing her from the inside out. Blood rushed in her ears, her heart pounded, heat swamped her veins, a mind-numbing pressure deep in her core coiling tighter as Oliver thrust into her so hard the table slid across the floor.
“Say it.”
“I need you,” Felicity gasped. He groaned at the words. “I need you. I need you. I need you.”
They moved together, finding a rhythm to his pleading, “Again,” and her breathless, “I need you,” echoed by the sounds of their harsh pants for air and her wet sex taking in every inch of him over and over until they both dissolved into mindless cries.
The orgasm hit her in a tidal wave, bowling her over, eclipsing everything. White sheeted over her eyes, a series of short, startled cries flying from her as she fell to pieces.
Oliver’s grip on her tightened so much she whimpered as he started thrusting with abandon. Hard, harder, each collision sending her higher, dragging her pleasure out until she didn’t know where he began and she ended. His forehead landed on hers, skin slick, his breaths hot and ragged against her mouth. Felicity grabbed hold of him, cradling him, nonsensical words falling from her as he plowed into her, erratic and frantic, chasing his pleasure.
He jerked, his back bowing, his pistoning hips stuttering.
With a strangled, “Felicity,” on his lips, he came.
Oliver collapsed on top of her, burying his face into her throat, her skin muffling his desperate noises. He didn’t stop, his hips rocking into her as he rode out his orgasm, her inner walls milking every last bit out of him, his cock twitching deep inside her with each burst.
It was a long moment before he finally slowed, and then fell still.
Buzzing filled her head.
Pleasure. Satisfaction. Shock. Confusion.
She wanted him to move. But she didn’t. She wanted to want to. She wanted to get off this uncomfortable table, to get his bulk off her where he crushed her, but at the same time, she didn’t. She didn’t want to move. Ever.
Oliver made the decision for her.
He slowly pushed up. He slipped out of her, trying to quiet his groan when he left her wet heat. Felicity bit her lip so hard it nearly tore the skin as her sex clenched at the sudden emptiness. And then he was off of her, pushing to his feet. He grabbed his pants, yanking them back up as he turned away from her.
He didn’t look at her once.
Felicity sat up, grimacing at the throb blossoming between her thighs. She stood up gingerly, her hands shaking as she pushed her skirt back down. The silence was deafening. He moved to his desk, peeling the condom off as he went before tying it off and tossing it. The cool office air stung her sweaty skin and she crossed her arms over her breasts, looking around for her blouse.
She spotted it in a crumpled heap next to his tangled shirts.
It smelled like him when she slipped it over her head.
“Were you supposed to be the CEO of Queen Consolidated?”
Silence.
Felicity looked at him where he stood by his desk, his hands frozen where he’d been re-buttoning his pants. The slacks were tight across his backside, stretched over his thighs in a way that they hadn’t been before. His back was covered in red marks where she’d raked her nails over him, making the well-defined muscles in his back stand out in harsher relief when he finished fastening the buttons. His belt was next.
That was it.
“You were, weren’t you?” she asked. The full weight of that hit her and Felicity’s ribs closed in around her, making her gasp. “You were leaving Q&Q. But now you’re not. Because of Isabel. Because of…”
Us.
He turned his head slightly, but that was it.
“How did she know?” she asked. She caught the edge of his forehead creasing in a frown. “About the Plaza. That we were there that one night…” He finally turned, his brow creased in muted surprise, and she huffed. “C’mon, Oliver, give me a little more credit than that. This is my system, remember? I know when something’s wrong. Or… missing. I saw the video. And the emails. And the announcement about her, that you sent. Like it was… gift-wrapped. Because she had something that she couldn’t have possibly known about, didn’t she? But the odds of her picking that one night…”
He didn’t answer her. He just turned to his desk.
“Oliver-”
He opened one of the bottom drawers and pulled out…
“My glasses?” Felicity frowned when she recognized the frames. She absently reached up to touch the replacement pair she currently wore. “I thought I lost those.”
“A couple weeks ago…” Oliver said in a low voice, not making a move to hand them to her. He tilted them back and forth in his fingers, the move so easy and familiar, as if he’d done it a thousand times. He stared at them as he spoke. “Isabel walked into my office and handed these to me. I told her they could be anybody’s, but then she showed me the security tape.”
Felicity’s heart sank. “Oh god…”
“I told her to go to hell,” he continued, still watching the glasses. He huffed. “She must not have liked that very much because then she sent the video to both of us. Except this time it was focused on you. She said she wanted you gone, and that if we didn’t do anything about it, she would take the video to the Board, since you not only work here, but are slated to be so involved with getting Queen Consolidated set up.”
Felicity closed her eyes.
This was her fault. It wasn’t them, together, specifically. It was her. She remembered wanting to escape that room the next morning more than anything, before Oliver woke up, before she had to face what they had done. Again.
“It was a game to her,” he said and she opened her eyes to see his locked on her. “She wanted to see what we would do when she pushed us into a corner. If it was just me, or if it was both of us, I could have at least… But it was you, and I knew I couldn’t do anything without risking her releasing that tape, so I gave her something she couldn’t resist.”
“Queen Consolidated.”
“Queen Consolidated,” he echoed. The broken way his lips lifted in a half-smile, an attempt to hide the depth of what he had given up, cracked her open. “It didn’t matter, though. Whatever we had, it had nothing to do with your job. You’re the best asset this firm has and I wasn’t going to let you pay the price for something that wasn’t your fault.”
Felicity could only stand there, staring at him, too overwhelmed to comprehend any of it.
So she focused on the one thing she could fix.
“She still has the video.”
Oliver pursed his lips on a slow nod. “Yeah.”
“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing they tapped me to set up Queen Consolidated, isn’t it?” She gave him a tight smile before lifting her hands to wiggle her fingers at him. “I’ll get it. Somehow. Once I’m in, I’m kind of hard to escape.”
Something flickered over his face, but it was so tiny, nearly indiscernible, that she wondered if she saw it. Then she remembered how he’d looked at her a moment ago and her heart faltered.
He dropped his eyes back to the glasses.
“Here.” Oliver cleared his throat as he stepped towards her and held them out to her.
Felicity slowly took them. “Thank you.”
All he had was a tight nod and a bland attempt at a smile before he turned away.
She grabbed his arm. “Oliver, wait-”
He looked back, his brow twisted in what she could only read as concern, but she barely gave herself time to discern it.
The second he faced her, she pushed up onto her toes again and kissed him.
It was soft, chaste, her lips capturing his with an ease that settled something deep inside her.
“Come home with me,” she whispered against his lips.
He hesitated and her chest caved in.
“Please.”
An eternity passed, their breaths mingling, noses brushing, but that was it.
She pressed her lips together before biting her bottom lip, the urge to ask him again - to beg - overwhelming her, nearly taking over.
Please.
Oliver pulled back and she barely bit back a whimper. He was going to say no. She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see the look he gave her, to face what she was asking him, after she had slammed the door in his face. Felicity bit her lip harder, fighting to keep more words from falling out…
He cupped her jaw.
Felicity’s eyes flew open as his thumb tugged her lip away from her teeth with a whispered, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The word was out before she could think, and the second it was, his mouth was on hers. With a sigh, she fell into him as Oliver wound his arms around her, pulling her into him. They opened for each other, and she whimpered when he took a deeper taste, re-sealing the unspoken bond between them.
“Yes.”
*
Thank you so much for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
On a final note, I want to thank everyone who has engaged with me about this story. I appreciate every single comment and tweet and DM and ask. I know the way I'm writing them in this 'verse is very challenging, and demanding, and it's not an easy read. But it shouldn't be, because I don't want it to be. I don't want my readers comfortable during certain parts of this story, because I'm not comfortable. I'm pushing a lot of boundaries with this story. This is my most difficult undertaking to date, and I question myself at every turn in this process. All the more reason I truly appreciate those who continue to read, who reach out, who share their thoughts with me. I'm learning a lot about myself as I go on, and I thank you for being on this journey with me!
#olicity#olicity fic#olicity fanfic#olicity fanfiction#olicitysquee#oliver queen#felicity smoak#arrow#fanfiction#olicity au#of law firms and honey#four walls#my fics#my fics: au
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Episode 203: Good Mother
Sorry so late this week!! I had a deadline for work that kept me away from this early in the week, and Tumblr has been mean tonight. Kudos to @tasyfa for helping me with some of the transcripts while I was stuck working!!
EPISODE SUMMARY:
Determined to regain control of her life in the aftermath of Noah’s death, Isobel (Lily Cowles) makes a risky choice despite its potential consequences. Meanwhile, Alex (Tyler Blackburn) and Michael (Michael Vlamis) work together to unravel the mystery surrounding the night Nora’s (guest star Kayla Ewell) spaceship crashed in 1947. Elsewhere, Liz (Jeanine Mason) makes a surprising confession when Cameron (guest star Riley Voelkel) shows up looking for answers about Max (Nathan Dean). Heather Hemmens, Amber Midthunder and Trevor St. John also star. Jeffrey Hunt directed the episode written by Deirdre Mangan & Carina Adly MacKenzie (#203.) Original airdate 3/30/2020.
DETAILS:
Aliens in the crash are always portrayed as wearing all white.
There's also a silvery gleam on the faces of Nora and Louise following the crash.
Harlan Manes (first introduced in the alien autopsy scene in 1x07) and Hector Valenti (first mentioned in the pilot by Jesse Manes, but visually introduced here) are shown as having both a partnership and a difference in perspective, with Hector being more sympathetic to the aliens from the start - it mirrors what we know about Jim and Jesse's relationship.
Mysterious alien figure in white hood (probably played by Nathan Parsons, but unlikely to actually be Max (see @latessitrice meta) touches Nora's shoulder and she looks pained, then attacks and burns Hector alive, before disappearing into thin air.
Nora is shot in her shoulder.
Liz sent Alex to find Michael at the cave.
The pods "regenerate cells at the same rate as they degrade" keeping them in stasis. The theory of the electrical current is that it will speed up the regeneration so instead of stasis, Max might improve.
Searching for info about Nora led Alex to a sophisticated firewall, which meant that someone was trying to hide information about her.
Jenna's fake energy drinks are called "Speed Demon"
Mimi DeLuca says she was "nowhere" (and then she looks up at the stars). She was wearing the same nightgown and robe as when she disappeared (white...like the aliens in 1947), but instead of bare feet, she had on a pair of elaborate blue and white cowboy boots
Jenna told Sheriff Valenti that Mimi recited the plot from the film Starship Troopers during the car ride into town "like she lived it", with all the voices, but did not provide any information about where she’d been. Sheriff Valenti implies that this is typical behavior from Mimi.
Michael says he's been parked at the pony for a few weeks. Maria says that Mimi was gone for a month. That means that another 2 weeks have passed. (I.e., Max has been dead for 6 weeks now.)
Maria says that they found her mom on I-40 (by the Roswell sign). Also in 2x01 Rosa indicated that she and Liz were on I-40 when they saw Flint - Rosa put together that it was the most direct route to Area 51...however, I-40 does not go through Roswell. In fact, it is over 100 miles from Roswell to I-40 (north on 285). However, it is the most direct route to Area 51 from Roswell.
Isobel points out that Mimi DeLuca waking up in the desert with no memory is similar to what happened to her when Noah took over her body. Michael doesn't believe that they are the same situation though.
Rosa is about to drink spiked coffee when Liz brings her the art supplies. After Liz leaves, she pours it out without drinking it.
Isobel is packing up all of the photos of her and Noah (most look like vacation photos). She hesitates on the photo of them with Max at the wedding that we previously saw in 2x01 at Noah's funeral.
Isobel's baby is now 7 weeks (consistent with the other time frames) and is now the size of a blueberry.
Isobel drinks the rest of the alien death serum and immediately gets cramps/pain in her womb. And then Max's hallucination appears.
Isobel tells not!Max that she has been microdosing with the serum for weeks (2 weeks, based on the timeline) and it hasn't worked.
Not!Max does tell her to call Kyle (i.e, her subconscious knows she should, but she's not listening).
Michael tells Jenna that Max is in Mexico (at first).
Mimi is "hydrated and healthy" and she never felt unsafe.
She thinks she was only gone for a night, coming to see Maria when Jenna found her.
Maria asked Mimi whether Jenna lent the boots to her and Mimi declared they were hers
Liz is surrounded by monitors with alienesque symbols on them (or maybe just The Science!) See photo:
When the alarm sounds Liz looks at her computer screen and reacts - likely a security camera.
When Alex arrives at the Bunker and sees the binder left for him, the computers are on and there is a map showing. See photo:
I tried to figure out what city it is on his computer screen, but no luck. If anyone figures it out, send me an ask & let me know & I'll blast it out!
The 3-ring binder left for Alex, which looked approx. ¾ full with paper documents, was marked on the front:
CAULFIELD * A4N
352-6553 NMG
The text was white on a dark green background that appeared to be a printed label that had been affixed to the front of the binder. The body of the binder was light grey, with a partially shaded circular diagram in the lower center of the front that appeared to be part of the binder itself rather than a later addition like the label.
The Post-It note left on the binder for Alex said, "What side of history do you want to be on?"
There was also a marking on the spine of the binder: CF-143-3453-C78. This is probably a file or record reference, with CF standing for Caulfield. The reference would be visible when the binder was housed on a shelf, allowing easy identification.
When Alex flipped open the binder, the visible portion of the top page read as follows:
HEADQUARTERS
509th BOMB GP (NH)
ROSWELL ARMY AIR FIELD
ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Forwarded.
A07-06 (95) 8 JULY 1947
AFTER ACTION REPORT
Serial
[blacked out text with underscoring] [TOP SECRET stamp]
From: Lt. Colonel Payne Jennings, Roswell Army Air Field
Subject: Engagement with enemy combatants, recovery of unidentified craft, night of 14-15 June, 1947, twelve casualties.
[offscreen] is a fine that concerns the events and
[offscreen] following the discovery of a flying saucer,
To: Chief of Staff, U.S. Air Force
[offscreen] dentified rancher notified
[offscreen] [blacked out text] that he found the instrument on
[offscreen] operations were coordinated with
[offscreen] with the intent of detaining or
[offscreen] while assisting in the inves-
[offscreen] reached the crash site
[offscreen] ing object’s entan-
[offscreen] balloon. Ship
[offscreen] of foreign
[offscreen] place
Liz explains The Science to Jenna:
"3 years ago I hypothesized that if I introduced a rare protein to destroyed stem cells they'd regenerate. And I was right. My team in Denver brought dead cells back to life. Rat cells, but, I mean, still, the applications are immeasurable… until our study got shut down. They said it's for ethics reasons, but I think it's because it threatened big pharma. Then a few weeks ago, Kyle found that the pods contain a sort of alien cousin to my regenerative protein. When Max healed Rosa, his electric charge amplified the process. If we can replicate that, then, we can accelerate his recovery, so, I am testing out pig hearts to see…" discussion about pig hearts/human hearts/different kinds of smart…
Liz says she has a few hours before she has to "record the electromagnetic charge interval"
Jenna says that Liz reminds her of Charlie.
Charlie used to rant about gene therapy
Jesse says he requested no visitors until "his brain starts to follow his orders".
He keeps periodically hitting the morphine drip with Alex in the room, though he was ignoring it before Alex got there.
Jesse describes the opening scene of the episode. And then tells Alex "Tripp was never the same".
Rosa's art:
Among the quotes on her collage are:
Body drie up from ...
What did she say
You're no listening
Control her Take her power
I am the Mesa the mighty
Nothing but a muddy trickle
You can't hold us
Sandia
Between them... Damn... One day she'll…
East
Rosa hears Max call out to her (while awake) "Rosa! Help! You're the only one!"
Jenna says that her dad brought her and Charlie to Roswell when they were kids. That they were obsessed with the crash and aliens and the X-Files and it was the perfect trip. It's why she came to Roswell after leaving the military. "It was like trying to go back in time, somehow."
"Time Travel really messed with you. I am eight years older than my older sister. She used to be my hero. She was kinetic, disruptive, cool. Now that I'm an adult I'm pretty sure she's bipolar, and she needs help. And if I try to save Max I'm letting Rosa twist in the wind, so, hence the wine ready in my drawer."
Maria is going through a box labeled "Mom's Stuff" in the Pony when she sees Rosa.
"I'm turning into my mom. I lost time at the gala...Michael's hand...I'm seeing things!"
What Valenti says about Noah's death:
"The M.E., Dr. Holden, listed Noah's cause of death as cardiac arrest due to lightning strike. (note: cardiac arrest = heart attack. Same way Max died.). No other abnormalities were listed. But that's not consistent with the crime scene photos. You see these ligature marks on his wrists and ankles. …. These marks are consistent with zip ties. And these with struggling against police-issue handcuffs. Like Max's.".
Isobel blames it on their sex toys.
What Max said to the grocery clerk "¿Tienes carne sin preservativos?" (Meat without a condom).
About Max's nightmare:
"You remember when I used to come in and sleep on your floor?"
"You used to have a nightmare. You were alone in a cold, dark room and there was something… You couldn't get up. You were…"
"Chained to the floor. I'd wake up all freaked out and run to your room."
Rosa's nightmare:
"I need your help, Rosa."
"Look, I'm not gonna help you die. I have been drinking so that I don't dream."
"I know that."
"It's like you're getting stronger. I hear you now when I'm awake."
"You're right. Something is making me stronger. I feel things. That's why I'm calling for you. Something is wrong with Isobel. Even in the pod I sense it. She's dying. Please."
Liz thinks that Max was able to reach out to save Isobel because the electricity is making him stronger in the pod.
Maria confessed to her mother that she had thought she might be getting sick too, Mimi said Maria would not get lost because she was protected, and reached for the resin pendant with the anti-alien pollen flower that Maria was wearing as usual. When Mimi seemed to go to sleep, Maria removed the necklace and placed it on her mother.
Flashing back to the night of the crash, Nora seems to be tying down the tarp on the back of the truck when Tripp approaches her. He feigns an offer to assist her and then grabs her and orders his men to move in so that they can take her and the truck back to base. Louise appears and black-canary-screams to push them away (sound waves, I presume). She is shot in the stomach/chest. Nora pulls her into the truck and drives them away.
The newspaper clip Michael found is dated October 12, 1948, two days before Nora was captured.
Newspaper transcript:
Last scene - Nora is clearly driving the truck with her powers, as she has both her arms around Louise. They approach a cabin and we're introduced to Roy Bronson, who offers to help.
Roswell Town Fair Charms Locals and Tourists
Photo caption: Smiles abound demonstrate a good time had by all.
Saturday Festivities Drew Healthy Crowds
Second column under photo:
...well as celebrated hometown war heroes, and, of course, Mrs. Benjamin Booker (Carol) whose strawberry Chile pie has won the Roswell Pie Contest four seasons in a row.
Children delighted in activities such as sack races.......
Top of 3rd column:
...ice creams.
Meanwhile the annual pumpkin chunking contest was the main attraction as expected! Pumpkin chunkers arrived from far and wide with their pumpkins and their pumpkin-lurching apparatuses. The prize for best pumpkin chunked went to the Long Family. Their farm foreman Roy Bronson credited his friend and neighbor, a young woman who declined to be named, for the Long's pumpkin chunking victory.
When asked what he'd do with the prize money, Bronson declared that he would "purchase ingredients (for his lady friend) to cook up a nice pumpkin pie".
MUSIC:
Dame - Holy Moly
Tommee Profitt feat. Fleurie - Hurricane
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