#Stolen Credit Card AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 8 months

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~ Bonded by a Ring | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, fluff, a bit of angst. (This is a light chapter tbh, I can't think of anymore triggering content. Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: We take a look at your life as Mrs. Jeon, wife of the rich heir to Jeon Enterprises, Jungkook. He was a handsome gentleman who you were able to call your husband yet the relationship between you both was entirely political and civil. Could feelings begin to sparkle between the cracks of marriage?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This was supposed to come out yesterday on Kook's birthday but I was busy and I couldn't edit it but here it is! I'll continue writing this small drabble series when I find the time while also working on other fics I hope to be able to publish soon.

Let me know your thoughts on this one in the comments, please! Drabbles are open for this au in case you want to request something my inbox is open!!💜

It was dark outside. Dusk had settled a while ago and your husband was still not home. You worried for him, for his health. He worked so much and rested too little.

You were sitting on the couch, your laptop rested atop your folded legs. Glancing at the clock you noticed how it was nearly midnight. You sighed. This was not new for you. For Jungkook to always come home late, seldom were those times in which he dined with you.

Rarely did you ever go to bed together as you often found yourself curled in the large mattress without him to keep you warm during the night.

You and Jungkook have been married for some months now. A marriage that was arranged by his parents. A marriage that was of advantage to you both for he needed to have a wife and an heir to inherit his family's company and you, well you needed his name.

As an author who had published her first novel, you became really popular in the world of words and books and you could thank it all to your husband's marketing team.

There was no love between you two. But you didn't hate him either. The relationship between you and Jungkook was a polite one, he was ever the gentleman with you and in exchange he obtained your respect.

You cared for him to a certain extent. You always made sure he never left for work on an empty stomach and had ready some light dinner for when he came home late. You always made sure his shirts were ironed and his shoes polished.

And in return, Jungkook always gave you anything you could possibly need. Do you have an appointment with your editor? He'd make sure his chauffeur would drive you there. Do you need some new clothes? You could always use his credit card. Do you want to get Bam a new toy? He’d made sure to bring you the best catalogues he could find for you to choose what to buy for the spoiled dog who had earned your heart too quickly.

It was a balanced relationship. He respected you, you respected him. Jungkook had his life, you had yours. But to the public, you both were a happily married couple. While inside closed doors, you treated each other as an old acquaintance of another lifetime.

Your attention got stolen by the sound of the electronic lock as the front door opened and in came Jungkook. Even from where you sat, you could see the tiredness in his body. The exhaustion.

You put the laptop aside before standing up and walking towards him. You took his coat from his hands and presented his slippers to him.

If Jungkook hadn't been that tired at that moment he'd have thanked you with a soft smile.

"I'm glad you're home, do you want to eat something? I can heat you up some dinner if you'd like?"

He let out a sigh, the stress, problems and frustration from work were getting on his nerves. And to even think that he had to go back tomorrow...

"No, I'm fine, (y/n). I just want to sleep."

You nodded, placing his coat in the hanger while putting his shoes in its place. The scent of his cologne invaded your senses and your touch lingered on the heavy robe he previously wore for longer than needed.

Your eyes followed his figure as he disappeared in one of the hallways and into the bedroom you both shared. You have never minded sharing a room with him, let alone the bed. The other two rooms in the large flat were transformed in your study while the other was his personal gym.

Walking back into the living room, you saved the draft of the story you had been working on for some time now before you powered off your laptop.

For a moment, your eyes lingered on the city lights. They looked so close yet so far at the same time. The large glass windows that reached from the floor up to the ceiling allowed you to see such a beautiful view.

You felt a sudden sense of loneliness wash over you. Something that felt strange in you, something you couldn't describe, let alone place its source.

With a sigh you turned around, your arms were hugging your figure as you approached the couch once more. You placed the laptop on the coffee table before walking towards the bedroom, turning the lights off on your way.

Jungkook was already lying down on his side of the bed, his back facing you. With quick and silent movements you approached the other side of the bed and sat down before getting yourself under the covers.

You assumed your husband was already asleep as deep breaths could be heard in the quietness of the place. You turned on your right side, facing his back as you shut your tired eyes after having been in front of a screen for too long.

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

Those whispered words reached you before you fell into your deep slumber. You mumbled the words back as you succumbed to the tiredness in your body.

"Goodnight, Jungkook."

Little were you aware of the fluttering in your husband's heart at your words. Of the small smile that graced his lips at the little attentions you always gave him. By the way you were slowly entering his heart without you having the slightest idea.

Jungkook was woken up by his noisy alarm and he cursed under his breath before turning the frustrating noise off. With a sigh he sat up, one of his hands ruffled his hair before he stood up and went to the bathroom as he needed to get ready to go to the company yet again.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, Jungkook stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft noise that nearly echoed in the overly silent apartment.

"Bam, stop it. You already had breakfast."

He heard your voice from somewhere in his large home as the smell of coffee suddenly hit him. His feet carried him over the hallway and across the living room until he entered the kitchen that faced the dining area.

Jungkook saw how you had prepared a plate filled with fruit and some yoghurt as well as a cup of coffee. He couldn't help the smile that grew on his face, the moment itself was precious as if gotten out of one of the dramas he had caught you watching from time to time when you needed inspiration to write or to simply pass the time.

His stomach fluttered when you lifted your gaze from the large yet cute dog who stole your attention to look at your husband. A smile on your own was painted over your lips.

Time seemed to stop when your eyes met his, Jungkook didn't know for how long the both of you stayed like that. As if trapped in a loop of time of perfection. Almost like a real married couple did.

He broke eye contact and cleared his throat, as if snapping himself from some kind of spell. A spell only you conjure over me. The thought crossed his mind before he could stop it. Your smile disappeared from your face as you looked aside, your cheeks heating.

"Did... did you sleep well?"

You asked after a moment or two of silence. Even Bam stopped moving by your side as if somehow the canine felt the subtle tension rising in the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you."

Then it was awkward again. You didn't know what to say. He wasn't moving, neither were you. He didn't seem to want to lift his gaze as it was placed on the white floor beneath his feet. As if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"I made you some breakfast. It is not healthy for you to leave on an empty stomach, Jungkook."

He hummed, walking toward the stool before sitting down, his breakfast resting on the marble counter.

"I'm going to take a shower."

You excused yourself and left the kitchen, not allowing your husband to say anything as the next second you were already walking down the hallway.

A sigh left your lips as you leaned on the closed door of your shared bedroom. What just happened? You thought to yourself while pressing the back of your hands up to your cheeks to try and cool down the skin that felt suddenly too hot.

You decided a cold shower would help you clear your mind so you didn't waste another minute to grab your clothes and hop into the shower, allowing the cool water to run down your body and refresh your mind.

Jungkook sat at the stool, spoon in hand as he ate the last of his yoghurt. His cup of coffee was already half empty when you emerged from the bedroom, your hair was wet and you were wearing fresh clothes.

The scent of your shampoo hit him and there it was, the fluttering in his heart, the soft churning of his stomach.

He emptied the bowl with his breakfast and downed the remnants of his coffee before he stood up.

"I have to leave now."

Your hands picked up his bowl and cup as you placed them on the sink.

"Have a nice day, Jungkook."

He didn't know what was happening. Everyday you woke up and prepared some breakfast for him, sometimes he ate it at the flat other times he took it with him to eat it at the office.

Why was he feeling so strange right now when what you were doing was completely normal?

You turned to look at him with a warm smile over your lips, ignoring the way your heart sped up a little by the mere sight of him or the way you felt your palms begin to sweat due to the nerves of being with him in the same room.

He mirrored your smile and you swore you had seen Heaven. You loved his smile. You had always found it pretty. It suited him. Not that you had ever told him that but it was a thought you had had since you first met.

"Don't forget to have breakfast, (y/n). I'll try to come back a bit earlier today."

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the thought of him coming home at a decent hour from work.

"Oh, that's good. Have a nice day, then."

You mentally face-palmed yourself. You already wished him a good day, idiot! But he chuckled, walking away from the kitchen and toward the front door. You watched him like every other day, you watched him put his coat on as well as his shoes.

Jungkook turned around and smiled at you before he was out of the door, the soft click of the lock echoed so loudly in the now nearly empty flat.

You sighed, going back to the kitchen to prepare something to eat for yourself. Just like Jungkook told you. The promise of his early arrival set a smile on your lips once more. Wanting to be with him again, even when he had just left not even five minutes ago.

The reason for this new feeling? You didn't know. But you couldn't say you didn't like it either. Jungkook was your husband after all, it was only natural to want to be close and spend time with the person one marries, right?

"Jungkook, are you listening?"

His head turned to look at the side only to spot Jimin, one of his close friends and co-workers already looking at him with an expectant and curious expression over his delicate features.

"Sorry, what?"

Jimin sighed, a hand running through his blond hair.

"I was saying that we need to close the deal with Mr. Cha as soon as possible. It will help us increase our sales."

Jungkook let out a deep breath as his thumb kept clicking and clicking the pen that was in his grasp.

"I know. I'm sorry, hyung. I have a lot on my mind right now."

Jimin clicked his tongue as he put some files aside.

"Yeah, I figured. I'll ask Hoseok to look into this and bring you the contract for you to sign."

"Thanks, Jimin-ssi."

The latter smiled, more than smirked and said, his hands tangling in front of him over the table.

"Now tell me, what is bothering you?"

Jungkook knew his friend was going to ask that question sooner or later. He leaned back on his chair and said, fidgeting with the pen in between his fingers.

"It's (y/n)."

If Jungkook had been looking at his friend, he'd have seen how Jimin's eyes widened at the mention of your name. He had met you on a couple of occasions, one of them being your wedding with his younger friend, that's why he grew surprised when you were the centre of Jungkook's current state of mind.

"What happened? Did you two fight or something?"

The doe-eyed man shook his head, placing his pen on the table before his eyes locked with the curious gaze of one of his closest friends.

"What? No, I don't think I could ever fight with her."

Jimin hummed, allowing him to continue.

"It's just that... man I don't know. I can't sleep, I can barely eat. My mind is always racing with the mere idea of her. This morning I saw her smile and... I just thought of how beautiful she looked while smiling. I want to make her smile like that, you know? I want her to be happy and to smile at me like that everyday, Jimin."

There was a moment of silence between the two men. Seconds tickled by, the silence stretched. Nearly swallowing the younger man with his own thoughts and racing heart.

"What? Don't you have something to say, Jimin-ah? You are always teasing me and when I tell you something serious you stay quiet."

The blond haired man seemed to snap out of his own mind. The only thought in his head was the one of Finally!

"You like her."

Stated Jimin. There existed no ounce of hesitation in those three words.

"What?!"

Jimin rolled his eyes, if anyone had seen the scene they would have thought it to be comical.

"Shhh, don't shout like that. I simply said that you like her. You like (y/n), Kook."

Jungkook swallowed. The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind. Did he- did he truly have feelings for you?

"But how?"

Jimin refrained himself from smacking Jungkook on the back of his head. Perhaps they were both speaking as friends right now but the blond man had to remind himself that Jungkook was technically his boss too. At least his future boss.

"Jungkook, it's completely normal. She is your wife, she's been living with you for months now. It actually surprises me that this hadn't happened before considering your one year anniversary is in two weeks."

The heir to Jeon Enterprises was too stunned to speak. Jimin had revealed a reality his heart already knew but his mind rejected to accept for he couldn't deny his friend's statement. He liked you, he really did. And now, he saw his situation with way more clarity than before.

"What do I do now, Jimin? Should I tell her how I feel?"

The older man laughed a bit. His eyes closed with the motion.

"See? You didn't deny it! You really like her, huh?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, not liking the teasing from his friend.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Aish, you are totally clueless when it comes to romance, aren't you? Listen, Kook, first you have to know if she likes you back. Don't just open your heart where there could be a field of thorns, gift her things and see her reaction, do things for her and pay attention to her words, if she gets flustered or not. And if she doesn't show any signs, well then you have to win her heart."

Jungkook still had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know in order to act on the feelings his heart was treasuring. You were his wife, wasn't a marriage supposed to be sweet?

What he had with you wasn't bitter, but he found himself craving as of lately that sweet love of the heart.

He wished to be with you like a husband loves his wife, not only bounded by a ring but by sentiment too. To be tangled in the web of feelings that threatened to blossom in his heart with every thought of you, every single memory of you.

And he was going to do just that. To fight for your love. To win your heart or claim it if his name was already written in your soul for him to live in such a sacred place.

Bonded by rings, destined by fate. Claimed by society, yearning for a life by your side.

~Masterpost

Sept/02/2023

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

257 notes · View notes

writerpetals · 1 year

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like the apple on the tree | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

w: carthief!au

Your father doesn’t give you enough credit for how intelligent you are. Not like it’s hard to put two and two together when noticing the shady business and sneaky deals going down in his auto shop. Growing up in such an environment has you keen on paying attention to the smallest of details, and now that you’re older, having witnessed stolen car after stolen car coming into the garage before he’s suddenly making excuses and disappearing to handle business, you’ve come awfully good at pretending you’re unaware of what’s actually going on.

Though it’s no secret he lives a risky life to give you everything you’ve ever had. Through so many years of running a chop shop, having his crew steal specific, lavish cars and either selling the parts or shipping them off to foreign countries, he’s given a spoiled life for his ‘princess’. And with you being the only family in his life he cares about, he’s kept a protective, watchful eye on you, closer than most. Which is why his underlings know not to even look your way when you enter the shop, to either drop off your father’s lunch because you know he’s been too busy to eat, or to borrow his credit card for gas money and anything else you may need.

Not that you could ever mind. The less you know, the better. It’s not like you’ve ever paid much attention to the men working under your father’s command. The greased up, sweaty guys tearing the cars apart under the front that they’re only making repairs usually didn’t interest you in the least bit, other than hearing small talk when they think you’re not listening to get the juicy information.

It’s not until someone new enters the shop one day when you’re in your father’s office after stopping by to get the brakes on your car checked. Your attention is immediately drawn to him as your father speaks with one of his boys, informing them what needs to be done on your car, but you’re hardly paying attention to the conversation the second your eyes land on the brightest, widest smile. The moment the man steps out of the shiny, steel gray Porsche he drove into the garage, he cards fingers through the strands of hair, licking his lips before grinning to one of your father’s other workers known as Archer, and then patting him on the shoulder as if to say, “she’s all yours.”

Of course, he means the car and of course it’s stolen, which has your heart racing the moment the man’s eyes come in contact with yours. You try to ignore the way your insides begin to shake beneath his gaze, and somehow he looks much too pure to be around all the other car thieves and criminals. Even if you can notice the outline of well-defined muscles beneath a thin, gray t-shirt, he doesn’t look the part of a typical crew member of your father’s shady business.

His eyes narrow, obviously taking in the sight of you standing next to your father, sun dress hugging your waist and breasts and the hem barely covering your thighs, which he stares at for far too long. Even a smirk grows on his lips, causing your cheeks to burn hot thanks to his confidence, and obvious stupidity because everyone else in the shop already knows not to dare even think about crossing the line with you.

But him, well, he is either dumb, or incredibly brave, but either explanation still has butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you bite your lip and wish your father wasn’t around so you could at least say hello. It’s not until someone comes to his side to nudge him does he finally tear his gaze away, and you quickly regain your composure to turn back to your father, hoping you weren’t caught.

From then on out, each time you notice him in the garage, your body has the same reaction. Quivering knees. Flushed cheeks. Shaking insides. Biting your lip and fluttering your eyes, and he smirks your way to tell you he notices all of it. Funny how he can have such an affect on you when you don’t even know his name. However, there are three things you do know about him: he can hotwire a car faster than anyone else that’s worked for your father, he’s one hell of a driver, and he’s not shy in the least bit about letting it be known what he thinks of you. But the most important fact of all, he’s off limits, and even if the desires make it so tempting to find out who he really is, you know the consequences will be much more severe if anyone were to find out.

So you try to keep to yourself, attempting to ignore the way he looks at you whenever he enters the shop. Trying to ignore feeling the heat from his gaze focused on your body as you walk and trying to ignore the imagines that pop up in your mind of the two of you together when he catches you staring for far too long. Which comes as a surprise to you, considering you’re not experienced in the least bit in that field, either. Yet the intrusive, sinfully naughty thoughts continue to appear more often than not, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize you’re completely infatuated with him.

Still, with infatuation comes desires to get to know him better, and with that, you find yourself looking out for not only yourself, but for him. You never take the leap, knowing you would be risking him as well, and maybe he’s not as dumb as you first thought since he keeps his distance. Maybe his new found friends at the shop have warned him enough, or maybe he begins to lose interest when you don’t show up to see your father as often. Either way, it doesn’t stop the desires from flooding you and it definitely doesn’t stop the thoughts of the two of you together. You’re curious, and you’re hooked, and there’s a feeling deep down inside that screams you will get your chance soon enough.

And soon enough comes a month and a half after you first noticed him in the garage. A night out on the town with your friends for a birthday celebration turns into getting shots at a bar, and through your drunken, blurry haze you spot that familiar smile and muscles beneath a thin, flimsy t-shirt walk past you with Archer and a few other boys from the shop. At first, you’re curious if the group of men are there to celebrate after a big grab (you’ve heard that it’s actually a thing around the shop every once in a while), or if it’s just a casual night out.

Then the thought crosses your mind that they will spot you there, and worries of your father finding out you’re in a strange bar with your friends after downing one too many shots flood your mind. Of course, you’re an adult and can do what you wish, but it doesn’t mean you enjoy hearing his nagging when he only wants to protect his ‘princess’. As you sway drunkenly back and forth against your chair, you know he would suffer cardiac arrest if he knew how intoxicated you were.

But Tiffany orders another round as you groan, wanting to decline, go home, curl up with your cat and sleep, but none of the girls will allow it. It’s a time for celebration, a time to let loose, and to hell with what your father thinks, they tell you. Giggling, you agree, ignoring the worries and Archer with his new friend, and downing the shot like a pro. It certainly draws attention to your table in the smoky bar, the other customers hearing you laugh and talk a little louder than you should, and it doesn’t help the birthday girl is wearing a sparkling princess crown the rest of you bought her as a joke. Unknowingly to you, certain eyes shift your way, and before you realize it, your little party is interrupted by a rough voice.

“Excuse me ladies,” you hear, blinking once, twice, three times but your eyelids are suddenly too heavy to focus, “we’ve noticed you having a good time over here, and we would like to buy you a round.”

Turning, you spot two men with their hands in their pockets and their faces hopeful, gazes switching between your friends and you and a slur to the words one of them speaks. You roll your eyes the moment you turn away, not wanting to be bothered by any random men and their unneeded drinks.

“No thanks,” Tiffany speaks for all of you, feeling the tension in the air and she’s always been the most bold. “Have a good night,” she dismisses them with a smile, but from the two continuing to linger, you can tell they’re not going to take it well.

“Oh come on,” the other butts in, stepping forward until he’s nearly towering over the friend seated next to you. “Don’t be like that. We’re just trying to be nice.”

“And we said no thanks.” her eyes narrow, not backing down from these persistent, obnoxious men. “Bye bye.”

“It’s just one round,” the first man chimes in, frustration growing in his voice and the tone makes your heart race. “Don’t be ru-”

“Hey, they said they’re not interested.” Another voice echoes from behind, much softer, but it’s stern, confident. “Plus, we got them covered, so you can leave now.” Your head jerks to of course see the new guy from the shop standing behind you, arms folded over his chest, nostrils flared, and brow hitched. Archer stays close behind, cocking his head to one side as if to question if there will be a problem, letting it be known he has no issue handling it.

With that, the two men receive the hint loud and clear, raising their hands and backing away to surrender in the corner of the bar. Meanwhile, the new guy and Archer stay put, making sure neither of them will be a problem if they leave, and Tiffany looks fed up with all of it.

“Well, thanks for that, but like we said, we don’t nee-”

“It’s okay, Tiffany,” you interrupt her defensive rant, but you don’t blame her. “This is Archer and…” Then your voice fades, realizing you don’t even know how to explain how you know them.

The new guy steps forward to offer his name, lips curling into a smile before his teeth are flashed, blaming the alcohol on the way it makes your heart beat at a rapid pace. “We work for her father.” He motions his head toward you, and the girls relax in their seats, understanding.

“Oh,” she mutters, glancing between the two of you, all before a lightbulb goes off in her head once she fully takes in his appearance. “Oh!” Her eyes pop, knowing he fits the exact description of the one you told her about so many times before. The wide, bright smile. The hair. And when he smirks, it confirms it that this is the guy you’ve been thinking about non-stop for a month.

“Well, if you will be okay, we’ll leave you to your celebration,” he politely informs, glancing down directly at you as his gaze lingers for far too long. When he licks his lips, a rush of heat floods your body, but you put the blame on the alcohol for that as well. “Goodnight.”

When the two turn to leave, Tiffany nearly jumps out of her chair. “Wait!” The urgency in her voice has the two men stopping, and you glare at her as a wicked smile forms on her lips. He steps forward first, brows raised, curiosity written on his face and you know whatever she says next is reason to murder your best friend. “Why… don’t you take her home?”

“Tiffany,” you say through your teeth, hoping he didn’t hear, but you need her to stop trying to set you up immediately.

“She’s been… not feeling well. And I know she’s tired,” she rambles on, not caring for the way you’re staring a hole into her head. If looks could kill. “I mean, if that’s okay? We’ve all been drinking and we’re not ready to call a cab.”

“Tiffany, please,” you groan, shaking your head and not daring to look up at him to gauge his reaction to the request. “He doesn’t want to-”

“I don’t mind,” he interrupts, catching you by surprise as Tiffany grins in victory while the other girls giggle. “I mean, if you want me to give you a ride. I don’t mind.” The rest of the girls and Tiffany smirk and nod, pushing you to go with him. They’re all eager for you to get laid, but maybe they wouldn’t be so encouraging if they knew who he actually was and what he actually did for your father.

“You don’t have to…” Your voice falls quiet, suddenly insecure and intimidated even after all those nights spent fantasizing about him. Here he is, right before you offering to take you home, and you can’t find the strength to even look at him as you stare into your lap. Your fingers tug on a loose string of your dress, biting your lip as the warmth floods your cheeks, too embarrassed to say much else.

“I don’t mind, really,” he assures you, and his soft tone finally causes your eyes to rise, looking through your lashes to see him smiling while already pulling his keys from the pocket of his denim jeans. “It would be my pleasure.”

You have a hard time arguing with that, standing from your chair to follow him out, but not before glaring at Tiffany one last time. She winks, telling you she’s confident you will be thanking her later, but in your drunken, head-spinning, wobbly-legged state, you somehow don’t believe it.

He guides you to the parking lot, hand managing to find its way to your back the moment you begin to lose your balance from the alcohol. This can’t end well, you tell yourself, groaning from the way your heels are now killing your feet and your dress feels so damn tight and uncomfortable. As you approach his car, it doesn’t take long to figure out it’s most likely stolen, which begs the question of who he stole it from to have the keys available. From the steel gray, curvy exterior sitting too low to the ground and shiny, matching rims, to the comfy, leather seats and sleek dashboard with lights that nearly blind you when he starts the engine, you know only a select few people drive such cars in the city, raising the risk of driving around so casually.

“Seatbelt,” he reminds you, but doesn’t give your delayed response time a chance to kick in before he reaches over you to grip the buckle, securing it around your body and clicking it into place. From him leaning closer, you catch a hint of his cologne, breathing him in deeper without realizing to wonder how he could smell so much better than you have been imagining in the last month and a half.

“Thanks,” you mutter shyly, nervously biting your lip while he asks for directions to your place. In an instant, you’re blurting out slurred street names, places, and a few drunken whimpers as your head falls onto the seat and your eyes close. You knew you should have stopped before the last shot, and you have a feeling future you is going to be more than pissed off at present you.

From his chuckle, you’re unsure if he knows where he’s going as he pulls out of the bar, but he says nothing as he presses the gas and takes off down the road. The engine roars, wondering how fast he’s actually going, but drunken you decides you don’t care. The only thing your mind can fall back to is your father finding out he’s driving you home in a stolen vehicle. Sober you will be worried sick at the thought, but that will come tomorrow.

“Is this car stolen?” You raise your head to peer at him, blinking to try to gather the strength to hold your eyes open.

“What?” He chuckles again, except this time there is hesitation in the laugh and the way he glances toward you.

“I’m not stupid,” you begin to ramble. “I know what my father is and what he does. I know what you do, even if I don’t know much else about you. I hear the gossip in the shop. So, answer me. Is this car stolen?” From deep down somewhere, you gain a bold new confidence, challenging him to tell the truth, but he only laughs with a shake of his head.

“Are you sure you haven’t had too much to drink?” He dodges the question, which earns an eye roll and an exaggerated sigh.

“You exhaust me.” Then you’re peering out of the window, watching the city lights pass, listening to the engine purr, and you don’t look over at him until he whispers his next words.

“I could say the same thing.”

“What?” Your eyes grow wide, brow creasing. “What does that mean? What have I done?”

“What haven’t you done?” He smirks, never pulling his eyes from the road, but his grip on the wheel tightens. “You always show up at the garage, in those sexy little dresses while all eyes are on you. And I think you like it. Asking daddy for money and swaying your hips from side to side, smiling, giggling. God, it drives me fucking wild and it only makes me want you more knowing that I can’t have you. That you’re off limits, and you like it, don’t you? You like driving me crazy, biting your lip, batting your lashes, and staring at me knowing I am thinking of all the nastiest fucking things I want to do to you.”

Your breath becomes trapped in your throat the longer he speaks, pulling the air right from your lungs and suddenly the car feels so small. His desires come to the surface to have you squeezing your thighs together and you know, just from him speaking, that arousal has already started to soak through your panties. You don’t even need to check to see how badly your body craves him, heat filling every inch of your skin and you’re suddenly so speechless.

He says nothing, but his jaw is clenched and his eyes are narrowed, putting all of his focus on the road ahead to not think about you finally sitting next to him, finally getting you alone, and finally getting a chance to speak his thoughts.

Your mind begins to enter panic mode after receiving the confirmation that he feels exactly the same way that you have felt for so long. It’s risky, and it’s dumb, and even though you know the consequences would be severe, all your drunken thoughts can do is remind you of all the nights spent thinking about him and what you wanted him to do to your body.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” you stutter, looking down at your lap. “I never noticed. I never notice any of the men my father has working for him.”

Suddenly, he stomps on the break, stalling the car in the middle of the street just beneath a green light. Your eyes pop, leaning forward to take in your surroundings, afraid someone else might see a random, stolen car in the middle of the intersection. Or God forbid, a police officer hidden out of sight. However, nothing but a few parked cars and dim street lights accompany the two of you on the road, and as you settle in your seat, you notice his eyes trained on you.

“You don’t notice?” he asks, then reaches to snap his seatbelt free before leaning closer. “So you are trying to tell me from the very first time I saw you, you never noticed me looking, staring, dying to have you?”

“N-no,” you whimper a reply, losing all confidence from the little space between the two of you, his cologne filling your nose once again and his eyes seem so dark, so intense as he questions you.

He chuckles, licking his bottom lip as his eyes trail down your body, then back to meet your gaze. “Alright then,” he simply says, a smirk on his lips all before he leans closer, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you. Your eyes fall shut, lips parting and waiting to feel him against your skin because God, did you ever want to kiss him in that moment. However, the only thing you feel is his breath ghosting over your ear. “But just know from now on that whenever you see me, all I’m going to be picturing is my face between your thighs, tasting you, pleasing you, and making you come until you’re crying my name.”

His words don’t even register in your mind entirely when he pulls away to stare into your eyes. Your body begins to ache regardless, so wet and worked up thanks to his boldness, speaking honestly and if you were truthful, you would tell him how you have been dying to have just that.

“And no,” he suddenly speaks, raising a brow as his hand rises to skim the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before your mouth reacts, opening up for him, but he goes no farther, “I’m not going to kiss you. Not yet.”

He leans back in his seat as if it’s nothing, pressing his foot to the gas and continuing the drive to your place. You don’t even think you would have a voice if you did want to reply, but you know there is no use when he has said it all. It’s clear he’s aware you’re lying and it’s clear he knows just how to get you worked up. It’s as if he’s testing you, and you’re not sure, if he’s going to play so dirty, that you will be able to hold out.

***

An entire week passes before you see him again. You know you should keep your distance, wondering if popping in at the shop would be a bad idea thanks to his warning. Yet, you can’t get his words out of your mind. His confession spilled in the car seven days before only makes the visuals all the more prominent. Night after night you fell asleep to thoughts of him, even touching yourself once or twice while picturing just what he wishes to do to you.

When you finally make your way back to the shop thanks to a check engine light on your car, you’re a bit more hesitant than before. Luckily for you, he seems to be nowhere in sight as your father calls on Archer to take a look at your vehicle. And when Archer approaches, he doesn’t even make eye contact with you. It’s either thanks to him spotting you at the bar that night, or already knowing what happened between his colleague and you. Well, assuming, since nothing happened other than him speaking what you both already knew, but you know a man’s mind likes to wander.

“It will only be a few minutes,” Archer informs your father. “It’s probably only the spark plugs.”

Your father nods and Archer goes on about his business, leaving the two of you alone only a second before he’s making an excuse, lying that he needs to be somewhere at some time and Archer will take care of your car. You can only nod, having been through the routine so many times before.

When he leaves, you linger for a bit, watching Archer check this and that on your car between glancing at your phone over and over out of boredom. At least he isn’t around, you think, allowing you to rest easy without the fear of tension or someone catching on to the way neither of you can take your eyes off the other.

After a while, you realize the work on your car is taking a bit longer than imagined. Since you have a lunch date with Tiffany in the next hour, you decide to take the opportunity to freshen up in the washroom to save time and apply touch-ups to your makeup.

Once in the bathroom, you don’t bother locking or even shutting the door entirely before pulling your lipstick from your bag to reapply to your lips. You make a few faces in the mirror, grinning to yourself over being silly thanks to the boredom, all before beginning to fix a few stray hairs, putting them back in place.

Lost in your own world, you don’t hear the bathroom door open, but you do hear boots against the tiles a second before his reflection appears in the mirror behind you. However, he does anything but startle you, approaching slowly, gently, and with a grin on his lips once he sees you were checking your appearance.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” you whisper, watching him shut the door behind himself in the mirror. “If someone sees…”

“Your father isn’t here,” he informs you, stepping closer, and closer, and taking the final step until you can feel his chest brush against your back.

“I don’t mean just my father,” you warn him, a certain tremble rising in your voice from his closeness.. “None of those guys out there are loyal to either of us. If they decide to rat us out.”

“You think I’m worried about them?” With the question, he leans forward, pulling his eyes from the mirror to tear away from your gaze, mouth coming dangerously close to your exposed neck and you can feel his breath against your skin.

“You… you should be.” You gulp, eyes closing to ready yourself, hoping any second you will feel his skin against yours.

But it never comes. “If you don’t want to do this, then tell me.” Your eyes flutter open at his words, meeting his stare in the mirror once again. “If you want me to, just say the words and I’ll back off. I’ll never bother you again, but I need to know. I need you to tell me what you want.”

Another gulp fills in your throat, becoming much louder than the first before your head falls and you focus on the sink beneath your palms. You weren’t even aware how hard your fingers have been clutching the sides, fearful of your legs giving out if you let go.

And it’s all the little things that have you so bothered lately. The sound of his voice, his appearance, his need for reassurance, and his patience all have your knees shaking and your body aching for him. There’s no way you could get away with being with him, yet there’s no way you can deny how badly you want him.

“I-I do,” you whisper, taking a few breaths deeper than before. “I… I want it.”

“It?” He chuckles, leaning in once again for his lips to brush against your ear. “You need to tell me exactly what you want.” And his voice lowers, becoming so deep as he speaks you can nearly feel the tremble in your body.

“I…” you begin, hesitating, taking another deep breath before the next words release in a quivering exhale, “I want you.”

“Good, baby,” he praises you, bringing a hand up to brush against your hip. Instantly, a shiver shoots down your spine, not being able to stop the quiet moan that spills from your lips. He notices right away, a deep chuckle building in his chest as his lips skim down the exposed skin of your neck. “If you have that kind of reaction to me barely touching you, I can’t wait to see what happens when I make you come.”

God, you hated yourself in the moment for how inexperienced, how innocent, you were. He knows the perfect things to say to set your body on fire because no one has ever spoken such tempting words to you before. Him speaking his mind, letting you know how badly he wants you comes as something new, and in just a few words he has your arousal dripping once again.

“Will you tell me something, baby?” he asks, but doesn’t wait on you to say yes. “Has anyone pleasured you before? Has anyone made you come by eating your pussy?”

Once again, his words have you trembling, mind racing on how to answer him, but embarrassment floods you when you realize you don’t want to speak the truth. Suddenly you’re clutching the sink tighter, not daring to pull your eyes away from the white porcelain and gold faucets.

But he is quick to catch on, and from the tone of his words, you know there is a smirk on his lips. “That’s what I thought.” Before you can respond, he pulls away, allowing your tense body to relax even just a bit. “I’ll see you later. I gotta get back to work, and Archer is probably done with your car by now.”

Then your eyes grow wide, turning to face him as the realization sets in that he’s not going to follow through with his words in the moment. “You’re… leaving?” You blink, staring at him swipe his tongue over his bottom lip before smiling wide.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says, stepping closer. “I’ll give you what you want soon enough.” He’s so close that his hands find their hand to cup your face and his lips come crashing down onto your own. It’s urgent, the way his lips caress yours, yet he isn’t rough and he isn’t taking as much control as you assumed he would. The way his lips part before his tongue caresses your bottom lip has your mouth opening to allow him entrance. His heavy breaths on your cheek informs you he’s holding back, and the gentle way his thumbs brush over your jaw causes you to realize, even if those lips can speak such dirty things, he can be careful as well.

He pulls away to leave you dying for more. Without a word, he exits the bathroom while wiping your lipstick from his mouth, erasing all remnants of you from his body until he gets another chance to get you alone.

***

He knew what he was doing leaving you in such a state. Two days pass and you can barely stand the thoughts swarming your mind. His words replay in your head like a broken record to remind you how badly your body needs his touch. The feel of his lips against your skin leave a permanent mark of desire, knowing you need to see him before you drive yourself wild from the fantasies.

Lucky for you, you’re aware there are certain nights when the boys’ shift extends into the early hours of the morning. Small talk and future plans overheard as you linger around the garage lead you to being informed of the schedule, working until the sun rises to get the jobs done.

As you prepare to make a sudden appearance at the garage, you pray he is the one working. You can sweet talk your way out of it if it happens to be Archer with him, knowing he won’t ask too many questions in fear of knowing too much he’s not willing to be a part of. You throw on a casual, loose-fitting t-shirt and jean shorts, not wanting to appear as if you’re there for any other reason than to look for your father. You can play innocent, dumb little daughter if you need to.

Of course, you know your father won’t be there, always heading out by five o’clock every day, trusting his boys to get the job done and tear the cars apart. Your hands begin to shake as you grip the steering wheel of your car, nerves running high and heart racing as the thump, thump, thump reaches your throat. When you pull into the lot, a dim, yellow light shines through each of the small windows on all of the garage doors, letting you know that at least someone is inside.

Your knees quiver once you step out of your car, each step slower, more hesitant than the last as you make your way to the small door leading into your father’s office. You know it’s unlocked. It’s the only way anyone can get in and out if the garage doors are closed, so you gather the courage to head inside after a shaking hand reaches for the handle.

When the door gently swings open, soft sound of R&B fills your ears, realizing the radio in the far corner of the shop is turned on. Yet, you see no one, stepping inside to peer out of the windows of the office only to lay eyes on a silver Mercedes Coup with the hood popped, parked in the middle of the garage. Tools and a jack lie scattered around the front of the car, as well as a dirty oil pan you only notice once you approach the vehicle.

Still, the garage feels empty, other than the stolen car and the melodies from the radio softly echoing off the walls. And you have to say, you feel pretty stupid for even coming. You just knew he would be here, working on the cars or getting them ready to make the delivery to have the vehicle exported overseas. Whatever it may be, you didn’t realize how wrong you could have been.

It’s not until you begin to walk away do you hear a door in the back of the shop shut, followed by the familiar sound of boots making their way toward you. Before you even turn around, you’re aware it’s him from the chuckle that spills from his lips. As you face him, there’s a smirk on his lips and a brow is raised in a cocky expression, noticing him drying his hands with a white towel to signal he’s attempted to wash the grease from himself.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be stopping by?” he asks, words teasing you because he already knows exactly why you’re there. “Your father is long gone by now.”

“I… didn’t come to see him.” Gulping, you make the first move toward him, but it’s only one step before you lose the courage. “I think you know that, though.” Your sight falls to the ground, but not before noticing the way he licks his lips, then the sound of the hood being slammed causes you to jump.

“Hm, do I?” he asks, leaning against the now closed hood of the car, crossing his arms, and all you can do is nod as you take a few more steps toward him. “And what if it was someone else working? What if someone catches us?”

“I don’t care about that, anymore,” you tell him, chin rising to feign a certain confidence you know you don’t possess. And a flicker of desire sparks in his eyes, as if he finds your willingness to risk it all as sexy as you found his.

But he says nothing as you stare at him, only his hand rising to motion with two fingers for you to go toward him. Like a magnet you obey his command, finding your feet moving before you can even realize it and you’re facing him with just an inch between the two of you before you know it.

“And what did you expect to happen?” His eyes narrow as he speaks, letting you know he’s not going to make it easy on you. As if you were expecting any man that you took a chance on just to bow down and worship you. Though, you have a feeling he wouldn’t mind doing that as well, he only needs to hear the words come from your mouth.

When you fail to reply, his hands find your hips, suddenly spinning your body around until your ass is pressed to the hood of the car. His body traps you between him and the vehicle, for the first time coming so much closer to catch you off guard.

“Are you here because you’ve been thinking about what I said?” He licks his lips again, a corner of his mouth twisting into a smirk. “Are you here because you want to know what it’s like for me to taste that pretty pussy of yours and make you come?”

Once again, the bold words have you cowering. Your gaze falls to the dip in his black tank top, taking in the sight of his collarbones and the peak of his muscles. He grips your hips tighter, flexing beneath the hold and it sends a shiver down your spine at the sight. His voice, mixed with the words he speaks, the grease up to his elbows, the sweat from working, and the smirk on his lips all have you trembling in his grasp and he’s barely touched you. It becomes clear he isn’t good for your sanity, but staying away has proved terrible for your body.

“Is that what you want?” he continues when he realizes you’re not going to answer. “You know you have to tell me. Let me know what you want me to do so I know you’re aware of what you’re getting into.”

Much too eager, you quickly reply to him, the words spilling out before you can stop yourself. “Y-yes,” you exhale, eyes closing thanks to his gaze being much too intense to handle. “I-I want it.”

“Want what?” He chuckles, low, raspy, rumbling in his throat to drive you wild. “Tell me, baby.”

Gulping, you take a few seconds to find the courage to speak. He stands so close, allowing you to take in the smell of his cologne, the grease, the sweat that all becomes too intoxicating in the moment. You take him in, the scent, the sight, the sound of his voice, the words spoken, mind racing and already so overwhelmed before he’s even started.

“I want… want you to taste me.” Never have you spoken such words, heat flooding your cheeks in an instant, part of you wishing you could back out due to feeling so unlike yourself, yet most of you dying for it to become a reality.

“Taste you how?” His hand rises once again to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, finding it quivering in the moment. “You’re not being very specific. Use those pretty lips of yours and tell me what it is you need me to do and I’ll do it.”

As if he’s snapped the final string holding onto your composure, the words begin pouring before you can stop yourself. “I… I want you to taste my pussy,” you admit, voice trembling with every syllable, “and m… make me come.”

As if those are the magic words, his composure breaks right along with your own. His lips crash into yours, breaths deepening while groaning against your skin. You can’t help but to reach for him, pulling him closer with skin against skin, tasting him as his tongue finds its way to your own and his hand falls from your face to cup your breast. A whimper vibrates the kiss, wanting him so desperately after waiting for so long, not caring about anyone else in the world, if you get caught, or someone finds out about your secret.

His mouth trails from your lips down your neck, licking, sucking, tasting every inch he can reach. His fingers tug on the hem of your shirt seconds before its being pulled over your head, leaving you in your lacy bra as goosebumps flood your skin. For a moment, he pulls away to admire the sight of your chest heaving, nipples poking through the thin, sheer material, and the view causes him to nearly growl as his lips meet your skin once again. His teeth skim over your breast through the material, finding your nipple to tug gently and earn a gasp before moving on.

His tongue traces a trail down your stomach, circling your belly button once before he kisses your flesh. He begins fumbling with the button to your shorts, motions becoming desperate, so eager to have you and it shows with every urgent action. In seconds he peels your shorts from your body, followed by your sneakers to leave you in nothing but your lingerie against the hood of the car. With his hands beneath your thighs, he lifts your body, causing your back to fall against the cold steel to send a chill down your spine.

“You’re shaking, baby,” he tells you with a deep chuckle, hands falling from your breasts to your hips, leaving a few streaks of grease in his wake. Yet the sight of him lowering to his knees, eyes darkened, lips parted, greased up and dirtying your body as he begins to press open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh lights a fire inside of you. An ache settles between your legs, so desperate for him to touch where you need it the most, dying to have his mouth pleasuring you. “Are you nervous? Don’t be, I’m going to make you feel so good. And fuck, you’re already so wet.”

You don’t bother replying the moment his mouth makes its way to your mound, pressing light kisses over your panties to work your body up further. You can already feel how wet he has made you, aching and needing release more than ever. And as his fingers hook into the thin string of your panties, you can’t stop your legs from quivering no matter how much you convince yourself he’s going to fulfill his promise.

His hands fall from your hips to press two thumbs to your lips, spreading your slit apart to see your flesh glistening beneath the light. The motion has you whimpering, feeling even the smallest of touches resonating through your body, heat flooding to every limb as your walls begin to tighten in anticipation. He notices in an instant, groaning at the sight of your dripping pussy clenching while dying to be pleasured. You assume he’s going to tease you for longer, work your body up with the nasty words spoken and drive you crazy, but a flick of his tongue over your slit tells you differently.

In an instant, your back arches from the hood, a gasp slipping from your lips as your eyes screw shut. He repeats the motion, flicking his tongue up and down over your slit before his lips find your clit, wrapping around tight and sucking. Within moments, your mind is spinning. Whimpers of his name fill the garage, already so overwhelmed from his mouth on your pussy and he’s just getting started.

“I-I, fuck…,” you begin panting, rocking your hips against him the moment he throws both of your legs over his shoulders. You can’t help but to reach for him, needing something to hold on to as your fingers sink between the strands of his hair to grip with a tight fist. He doesn’t seem to mind, only groaning at the sensation as the response vibrates against your skin. “Oh… my God…,” you mutter, head rolling back against the car as your back arches once more, feeling his tongue massage your clit back and forth while his hands resume their position on your hips, holding you in place.

You can feel yourself dripping further, making a complete mess against the hood of the car, soaking his tongue with your arousal, and it only encourages him to continue. He’s relentless, circling your clit with his tongue and then sucking, only to resume messaging and quickening his pace each time. He continues to groan, loving the way you taste, the way you drip, the way you buck your hips, pulling his hair, and calling his name. He knows how much he drives you wild, and he knows how good he is making you feel, not wanting to stop until you’re shivering in pleasure and crying out for him and only him.

You’re almost ashamed at the noises you begin to make. You’re not even as vocal when you’re alone, but he earns every whimper, every moan, and every cry of his name thanks to his skilled tongue. He holds you tighter, feeling you trembling in his grasp, feeling your hips buck and feeling the sting of his strands being pulled too tight. He’s painfully hard, only imagining how it would feel to ease his cock inside of you, but for now, you come first. He wants to show you how good he can make you feel, wants to show you how he knows what your body needs, and wants you to know there’s no one else that can make you feel as much pleasure as this.

You continue to whimper, feeling the tension building between your thighs as his every motion from his tongue becomes electrifying. “Don’t… don’t stop. Please.” You know you’re getting close as your senses become overwhelmed and your thighs tighten around his head. He is aware as well, never pulling his tongue from your clit to make sure you reach your peak.

As if the final thread holding you on the edge twists and snaps, warmth erupts from between your legs to flood your entire body. The tension unravels, causing your back to arch and your cries to grow quiet as the first wave surges through you. Then you fall against the hood of the car, whimpering, muttering curses, gasping for air and riding out the bliss with your hips rolling against his face.

When he pulls away after you begin to come down, his lips are glistening with your arousal, which you notice behind fluttering lids, attempting to catch your breath in the aftermath of pleasure. Normally, embarrassment would overtake you when you realize he stares down at your overwhelmed state, trembling thighs spread for him to see what a mess he’s made, a pool of your arousal beneath you, but you find yourself too spent to care. A few kisses are pressed against your thigh, soothing the tremble in your body until you can find yourself breathing properly again.

“C’mon,” he says as he reaches for your panties he tossed aside. “I’ll walk you out before I get this car dropped off.” Suddenly, you frown, brow creasing as he pulls you from the car with a gentle grip on your wrists. His hand slides behind your back, making sure you can steady yourself enough to slip on your panties.

“So you’re really getting what you want and getting rid of me? Just like that?” You have to be honest, you thought more of him than that.

“Getting what I want?” He cocks a brow, staring down at you with a grin. “If I recall correctly, you’re the one that asked me to make you come.”

He has a point, so you don’t question him further, allowing him to help you ease your shorts over your quivering legs before assisting you with your t-shirt. Once you’re dressed, you find yourself in control of your body enough to handle slipping your shoes on by yourself, but there’s still doubts lingering inside of you.

But of course, as if he knows just what to say, he puts those worries to rest. “It might seem fun to sneak around, but I am dead if someone catches us. We both know that.” Then he laughs a moment before leaning down to press his lips to yours, allowing the taste of you to linger. “And I gotta get this car dropped off before someone makes a call to your father. I don’t want to explain why I am nearly an hour late.”

You understand, nodding and looking away before you see him reach for the rag he previously used to begin cleaning the hood of the mess you made. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, allowing the reality to set in of what happened and knowing tomorrow morning you will wake up and each second will feel like a dream.

You remain quiet as he cleans up his tools and dirty oil pan, waiting on him to be ready to walk you out. When he signals he’s ready, you begin making your way to your father’s office to leave, but his fingers wrapping around your wrists force you to pause.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, turning you around so your eyes meet his. “Don’t think this is over between us.” A smirk forms on his lips, eyes flickering with that same desire as before.

“I… wasn’t,” is all you manage to say, but with the way he leans in, kissing your lips and lingering for a moment to cherish the taste, he lets you know he doesn’t believe you.

“I’m far from done with you, baby.” The sudden deepness of his tone has a shiver racing down your spine, noticing his gaze shift to take one look down your body, then he continues to stare in your eyes. “There’s so many more ways I want to make you feel good.”

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #marvel scenarios #stray kids scenarios #call of duty scenarios

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groovygladiatorsheep · 4 months

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The other heir.

Meet Augustus !! He’s one of the multiple fanon children of The Diamonds King & Queen, from the au Deltacards..

He’s generally a spoiled kid.

╔════《✧》════╗

✧ Credits.

- Deltacards by - @shinewerst !

- Deltarune by - Toby Fox

╚════《✧》════╝

✧ Info.

— Name -> Augustus

— Age -> 12 years old

— Appearance Description -> Augustus is quite the mix, between a Lizard-Snake and a Lamia, you could say he’s got not the worst side of the gene pool.

The little prince has a frill around his neck like that of his father, along with hair like his mother.

He has three pair of arms, similar to the mother of Julius, the king of diamonds. He has a tail coloured in white with scales of multiple colours on it …

His hair is a pale green, with white reflects. He has sharp teeth, and often wears a toy like crown.

— Personality -> Augustus can be a bit of a brat at times, but is very discreet about being one. He’s absolutely obsessed with gems and jewels, but hoards them instead of wearing them. Chrysolite often has the only jewels she has stolen, and scolds him a bit.

She spoils him maybe a bit too much, and he loves her back with all he can.

August is often scared of judgement, due to his young age and inexperience in royalty manners.

Nevertheless, he stays quite the mischievous child, and won’t hesitate to get servants fired if they do one wrong move.

— Fun fact ->

- Augustus loves to play cards game !! He’s very good at it for his young age :3

- His ‘toy’ crown is made out of Jade..

#mdraw #fanchild #Diamond children #Augustus #ref #Diamond deltarune #Diamond queen #Diamond king #my spoiled brat baby #deltarune au #deltacards

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black-rose-events · 1 year

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Book it 📗

Based on this thread inspired by a prompt by @auratusaria and its continuations by @freefallingup13 and Spectre aka @world-of-fire-and-flight!

[ID: Pingu the penguin angrily sticking a pink heart on a card, with top text "When your favorite author turns out to be your nemesis" and bottom text "but you still need them to write the next installment" end ID]

Hero's jaw dropped, "It was you? All along?"

"Surprised?"

"Obviously! I told yo— I told Author Name my fan theories! My OTPs, my NOTPs!" They couldn't believe it. They were talking to their favorite author all along? They gasped! "I told you about my AUs and fanfics and fanart!"

"And as fun and validating all of that was, I also found your fandom blog by the way," Hero visibly paled, "and I loved reading every single one of your fanfics, not to mention your insightful analyses and theories. I also adore the incorrect quotes you make, very in-character. And since we're airing out dirty laundry, then, to be entirely honest, the only reason your OTP is canon right now is because I wanted to see if you'd be distracted enough at our next fight. And you were!"

"But- but- they were endgame from the start!"

"Nope! I never intended that! They were supposed to be friends, nothing more."

"But all the clues! The foreshadowing!"

"All in that shipper brain of yours, Hero. But I will be taking the credit, of course. And for all the theories and ideas I had thought up all along and you were just 'right' about."

"I'll pummel you!"

"Not if you want your OTP alive, dearie."

"But-"

"Sorry, Hero. But here," they took out a thick hardcover from their duffel bag, "Here's the next book. Hasn't hit the shelves yet."

The crime-fighter reached for the book, a mix of suspicion and giddiness. It was weird. Their favorite author was their nemesis? What's next? Their online friend is Supervillain? Well, they do both like the color blue... Hmmm...

"Earth to Hero?"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah." They took the book.

"Open it. To the dedication."

Hero did. It said,

To my favorite fan. You're my hero.

And it was signed by the author.

When Hero looked up, Villain was gone. And so was the priceless antique typewriter. Stolen from right under Hero's nose. Just like their heart.

---Fin---

A/N: SO. I feel mean about Villain taking all the credit sooooooo they own up to everything eventually and give Hero their due credit :)

Also... Spectre's totally shipping this hero and villain!!! I never intended it! They talked me into it!!! They're a shipper! Their secret's out! MWAHAHAHAHA 😈 /lh Love ya, fellow villain! Even if you are a sucker for an adorable hero :)

#heroes and villains #heroes and villains memes #hero x villain #hero x villain fluff #villain #hero x villain community #evil #evilcore #villaincore #black rose events #villaintine's day #author villain #writeblr #snippet #fluff #adorable hero

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akusaimonth · 11 months

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AkuSaiMonth 2023: July 8 - August 7

And here we go again! Welcome to AkuSaiMonth, a month of celebrating AkuSai & LeaIsa!

AkuSaiMonth 2023 Bingo

Just like last year, we will be playing bingo again! The prompts on the bingo cards are randomized! Which means, every participant will have their prompts in 1 of 30 different arrangements!

Where can I get the Bingo Card?

To claim your personal AkuSaiMonth Bingo card,

click >> HERE! <<

Using the link on the same device and browser should (in theory) always lead to the same card. However, I would strongly recommend also saving the card by either using the print button on top or by making a screenshot.

How does it work?

The goal is to get one “Bingo!” during the month (Jul 7 – Aug 8) by filling 5 prompts in a row, column or diagonal.

This could mean one post every week, for example:

Post 1: Saturday, July 8 (IsaLea Day)

Post 2: Saturday, July 15

Post 3: Saturday, July 22

Post 4: Sunday, July 29

Post 5: Monday, August 7 (AkuSai Day) -> Bingo! <3

You are of course allowed to do less than five prompts (one is perfectly fine! <3) or even fill out the entire bingo card (I wish I had your time management skills)!

Rules:

General Rules

• The event is open to everybody, there is no official list of participants and you don't have to register for it.

• You can start and end your participation at any time!

• You can fill as many prompts as you want at whatever schedule works for you!

• The goal is to achieve one bingo, but this is meant as motivation only; it’s not an obligation or restriction!

• Everybody who reaches one bingo "wins".

• There is no prize for "winning" and there is no punishment for "not winning"

Posting Rules

• The event is held on instagram & tumblr, but you can post wherever you want.

• On tumblr tag your works as #AkuSaiMonth and #ASM23

• On instagram tag your works as #AkuSaiMonth and #AkuSaiMonth23

• Mention @akusaimonth in your works both on tumblr and instagram so I can’t miss it!

• Don't hesitate to send me your works per dm if I somehow do end up missing them anyway!

• On tumblr all posts will be reblogged to the @akusaimonth tumblr

• On instagram I will collect all posts in the stories. It is also possible to invite @akusaimonth as a collaborator to showcase and collect your works on the @akusaimonth instagram page as well. All rights to your works remain with you of course!

• If you post to other sites (e.g. AO3, twitter, wattpad, youtube, ...) you can send me the link in a DM on either tumblr or instagram so I can add that link to the instagram stories and tumblr (assuming you didn't post it there yourself). Please let me know where you would like me to put the link and whether it contains NSFW content or not.

• I do retain the right to not share content I find in bad taste and I will ask you to remove it from the #AkuSaiMonth tags as well. I don't expect any problems, but just to be save.

Content Rules

• All forms of content are allowed, including but not limited to fanfiction, fanart, edits, videos, music, …

• The “/” in some prompts means you can use either or multiple of the terms

• All prompts are open for interpretation, there’s no right or wrong way to use any of them!

• You can stay within the framework of canon or create AUs or crossovers or whatever you want, everything is great!

• All content has to be made by you! Stolen fan work is NOT allowed.

• AI generated work is strongly discouraged

• If you want to include fan content made by other people in your edit/video/… you have to get permission first and add credit to the original creator/s!

• Official material can be used with no restrictions

NSFW Rules

• NSFW is allowed!

• Consuming NSFW content happens at the viewers own discretion.

Tumblr:

• Please post visual NSFW under a “Read More” or with the appropriate community label

• NSFW content will be reblogged with an #nsfw tag

Instagram:

• Keep the Instagram NSFW rules in mind (cropping, censoring, ...)

• Please add a NSFW warning in the first two slides of any visual NSFW works.

Disclaimer

• AkuSaiMonth is a fan event only and stands in no relation to any copyright holders of Kingdom Hearts or any of its content or characters.

• The rights to all works remain with their creators and the copyright holders.

• AkuSaiMonth is not responsible for any content created during the event.

FAQ

Who is behind the event?

Original creator and host from 2014 – 2019 is the wonderful @misomilk! This year’s host is @herzblutrose

I lost my card!

If you remember your Bingo Card ID, then that’s absolutely no problem. Let me know and I’ll give you a permalink to the card you pulled!

What does prompt (…) mean?

It means whatever you want it to mean! Have fun with it!

Other questions?

Send me an ask or a DM!

Plain text prompts in alphabetical order:

• Arguments Turned Love Confessions

• AU where nothing goes wrong

• Crossover

• Distortion / Static

• Early Mornings / Late Evenings

• Fake Dating AU

• Far Away / Together

• Farewells / New Beginnings

• Forehead Kisses / Scar Kisses

• Found Family

• FREE SPACE

• Getting Stuck on a World / No Way to RTC

• I Didn't Forget You

• I didn't know where else to go.

• Jealousy

• Magic

• Memories / Snapshot

• Mobsters / Crime AU

• My soul will find yours. (Jude Deveraux)

• Stars

• Summer Snow

• Sun (or Fire) & Moon / Red & Blue

• Tear Marks

• Was it worth it?

• You Have Changed

#akusaimonth #asm23 #akusai #kingdom hearts #axelsaix #isalea #leaisa #saixel #axel kingdom hearts #saix kingdom hearts #isa kingdom hearts #lea kingdom hearts

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katydoodles · 6 months

Text

Planning Session

Chloe and Zoe trying to figure out how to take the credit card again.

#Stolen Credit Card Chronicals #Stolen Credit Card AU #chloe bourgeois #Zoe Lee #fashion #miraculous ladybug #its been a while since ive drawn them #paint tool sai 2 #procreate #i used both programs while drawing this #ml fanart #digital art

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pansear-doodles · 9 months

Note

If you rewrote Heist today, would you have made any major changes to the plot or characterization?

Heist is well liked and I think its a pretty good introduction to how divorced and silly my anthro au series is to new readers when compared to its original source material (while still retaining elements from original source material) with bits of seriousness near the end (i dont think ive ever seen anyone aside from myself talk about the fact that artificer had a panic attack when monk was threatened to be hurt though that's attributed that the more outlandish parts of the comics are more focused)

Though if I were to change some things about Heist:

Add comic borders (this is the most blaring issue that I may wish to revisit someday)

General character design consistency - All of the slugcats transitioned to digitigrades somewhere around or after Heretic and there's no in-universe explanation, Hunter would have their mane (this means the haircut comic wouldnt exist), Monk would have their longer ear design, Survivor's pupils, etc.

I would include Enot and Nightcat (and possibly Wanderer) - I have made designs for their what if conclusions below this list a while back.

I would include a final segment involving pebbles and or moon - Pebbles noticing something off about the pearl (and revealing he's already aware the pearl's been stolen- just chose to let this go on as punishment) , Moon babysitting arti's pups (if this takes place once their powers bloom, expect shenanigans similar to helm) - though I will probably add them in interlude 1 since there's not many comics in there and it does appear to be placed loosely timeline-wise.

SK would not threaten to kill/hurt monk since she's the youngest of the group- instead threaten to kill/hurt any of the adult slugcats instead (i have a certain reason for this)

Foofy (the infamous credit card scav- yeah the purple fuzzy one) would have a small gag with sk (her supposed stepfather) near the end when the slugcats escape- that or carl if carl accompanies sk

I would've made Hunter a bit more energetic/encouraging to be more inline with their upbeat personality (but they still get to be a ninja)

Heist is mostly inline with my visions and these minor changes do not take away from my views on my anthro au as a whole. I'm glad that's the thing most people know my anthro au for and the fact that it is what its known for in the surface crowd means it serves being the introduction well. While I sometimes wish my other chapters get similar recognizability, you gotta start somewhere you know?

#ask

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seleswrites · 8 months

Text

serena ira | Leon S. Kennedy/Reader | find on AO3

And on the seventh day, god brought your soulmate into a dying city, crawling with the monstrous undead. Damn your luck.

Fandom: Resident Evil 2 (remake)

Relationship: Leon/Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,568

Tags: soulmate AU, canon divergence/not canon compliant, no Y/N, Leon A and Claire B (in my head they meet up before the final train scene), canon typical violence, lots of cursing, reader can be anyone but I tend to write queer afab reader-oc's.

Event: @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge

Soulmate Prompt: "You and your soulmate have matching tattoos that become clear once you meet." (Added a bit of flavor so hope it's a good read still!)

Photo credits: Nicolas Ladino Silva (woman in shadow) and Trevor (city landscape) on Unsplash

A/N: Nothing like a new fandom to control the braincell. Please be kind, I just got into RE like two weeks ago lmao! I only know half of RE2:make, the RE4:make, and Lady D from Village.

An entire city overturned into a place of nightmares not even within a week.

Familiar streets turned into dangerous traps filled with, what you could only describe as, the undead. You had no idea how you were going to survive. Hell, you had no idea you've survived this week. Damned Luck pitying you perhaps, for Her sick game.

The Raccoon City PD was no longer a safe haven like the radio repeated, a turned labyrinth of monsters, and the group of people you escaped with (stupidly taking your chances outside, running out as quickly as you had run inside) and traveled with dwindled in number as many small hordes of once living and breathing people descended upon you all, multiple times. Until more people broke off on their own. Until more people became part of the living dead numbers. Until it was just you. Just you. Alone.

Didn't anyone learn about the buddy system?

And, somewhere in the middle of this all on the sixth or seventh day, your outer forearm inked with your soulmate mark -- a large raven feather that broke into smaller silhouettes of the same bird, flying off your skin if it could -- burned with the damned telling sign that you were close to that First Meeting. That they, whoever they are, were close. And very much alive.

Great. In the middle of a zombie apocalypse and your soulmate had to arrive somewhere within this large ass city. That would be the cards dealt by Lady Luck. And your luck would pin either of you as dead before arrival.

You couldn't curse your bad luck enough. On the verge of leaving, meager and stolen supplies packed up in a motorbike you've hidden in a secure space and a route planned out of the city, you hesitated. A settling sinking feeling sat in your stomach like a heavy stone. You can't leave your soulmate here to die. With a growl, you shoved your assorted pockets and bags with as much ammo, medical supplies, food and water as possible, finality lining every movement.

Damn it! Damn them!

Following the burning pulse radiating in strength as you, hopefully, close the distance, you leave your own safety bubble to seek your soulmate out. Out in the rainy night in this dreary city. Bundled in the remains of a warm outfit. Whatever fucking idiot was roaming around here better be worth it.

Hours of slow going, getting soaked to the bones, avoiding the hoards as they swarmed the PD station again as a loud siren and explosions echoed in the night air, your heart sank.

You gotta be kidding me.

That would be the most likely place in the city, wouldn't it?

Damn your luck.

(On any other day, you wouldn't curse your lack of luck to incur more of Lady Luck's wrath; even now, you're still alive thanks to the whimsies of Luck and the Fates. And firearm and survival lessons of your paranoid and militaristic step-fa-- your dad. For another countless time this week, you wished he was still alive so you could thank him for his hindsight for all his 'ridiculous' teachings. Still: fucking damn your luck--)

Stop.

Control your breathing, even as panic laced every inhale, every exhale. Focus on keeping quiet, on this warmer-colder game of tag with someone you don't even know, on keeping alive because what's the point if you die in process?

Focus on the undead blocking your path to get back into the metal graveyard of the museum-turned-police-station before you.

Aim at the back of its head.

Line up the shot.

Inhale.

Steady.

Gotta thank the old man when you die a natural death of old age and see him in the afterlife. Or something like that, you thought, firing the shot.

The creature shrieked a horrifying hiss as the bullet hit, like someone released air out of a balloon, a squeaky sound that you still internally wince, unused to it even after this week. It twisted and turned, head lulled back, and you ready-aimed-fired a quick second bullet before you could see its face. You didn't want another ghost of their human self to add into the mix of your dreams -- whenever you did find a safe space to sleep next.

The body dropped to the wet ground in an awful slump.

Exhale.

White puff of cold air left your lips as you stared at the body for a second to see it unmoved. Quickly, you checked your surroundings for any other zombies; four more shots fired, three downed dead, three more bullets in your P220's mag. Another prayer casted towards the capricious Lady Luck: please, don't summon a licker.

An empty street was all that greeted you. Nothing attracted by the sound of bullets firing, nothing but an unnerving feeling that you were being watched, shivering beyond the coldness of the rainy night. A loud scraping sound kept you low to the ground, half bent over and nearly squatting, as you casted your eyes around, looking for signs of threats.

No threats. Street still empty. Empty, except two survivors in the distance, exiting from the Station’s parking lot.

From where the noise came from.

On the other side of the sinkhole and its halted repair started before this week of hell.

You managed to get yourself to the edge of it, avoiding two zombies eating flesh along the way, them happily and thankfully ignoring you as horrifying chewing and slurping sounds loudly scraped against your own gut. Managed just quick enough as the two strangers had their back to you, one working their way to get inside the gun store, its neon sign lighting highlighting the woman's silhouette with a fade glow of red.

"Hey!" you wanted to scream, but the word stuck in your throat. It wouldn't do anyone good to scream here and attract monsters. Selfishly, you wanted someone to turn around, to see you in the distance, to wait for you-- As if you could be heard, the other silhouette turned, ever so slightly, enough for you to read the miniscule and faded letters of R.P.C. across his chest.

The mark hiccuped in its heat, only fluttering coolness the brief moment you both saw each other. Your breath hitched in your throat.

Him. It's him.

The door to the gun shop opened and, even from your spot across the way, you heard the woman call out to the cop, distance obscuring what she actually said however. She entered the shop without a backward glance. He hesitated, giving you a look you were too far away to read, before following in after his partner.

You couldn't help but rub your fingers along the cooling shape of a feather on your arm, a silent prayer on your lips to the Fates or fucking Luck or whatever listening to give whatever goodwill you had and send it to him. Let him survive.

And then you were alone again.

Let him be safe. Please.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A curse hissed out of your mouth, unwanted as a zombie bit at your not dominant arm, the one burning with the feather soulmate mark. The wound's deep enough where blood blossomed under your sleeves, but you yelped as you wrenched your arm free. Its teeth pulled away with your skin and shirt fabric in between its maw. It growled. You shoved the barrel of your pistol against its temple, firing.

Blood and brains splattered onto your long sleeves, already soiled with sewage and dried gore. A loud groan left your lips, frustrated at your sloppiness over the fact you were bleeding. Contagion was the least of your worries; you'd been a zombie three times over during this week. But regular infection of an untreated wound? That could kill you.

Your thoughts stilled as a chilling scream sucked in your breath.

You should have expected the NEST to be filled with zombies, everywhere else in the city was. It's why you shared your ammo with Claire as she explored her portion of the NEST to unlock the antiviral needed to save Sherry; if anything, she had a better sense of survival than you, especially after the way she fought that terrifying eyeball monster of a once-human.

What you didn't expect was the fucking licker crawling around on the ceiling.

You should have.

A high pitched whine sent a chill down your spine, before its long claws scraped across the walls.

Tensing, you covered your mouth and held your handgun in its direction, hoping that it didn't hear you. You didn't have enough rounds in the mag, hell in general if you had to fight it. Two shots left before reloading. Your pistol’s full eight wouldn't even be enough.

Circle around it slowly as it seemed to sniff the air (and deluded yourself that it could not smell your disgusting stench of sewer and sweat clinging to you).

Slowly, foot by foot.

Freeze as it hissed again.

The door opened, creaking. Both the licker and you tilted towards it. One booted foot in, someone you know by the returning of the intense burning of your forearm in the shape of a raven's feather.

Him.

The licker posed to jump in his direction, like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse.

Fuck you Lady Luck and her shitty timing.

"Careful, licker!" you shouted.

It whipped around towards you, its loud growling wheeze echoing in the room. Fucking shit--

The bastard howled as it lunged forward.

Into your space.

Duck -- too late. It jumped on your body, throwing you to the ground as its large claws hit your shoulders. You yelped from the impact. Happlessly, you fired your two shots into its large, brain-like head. The bullets hit, but not the weak spot.

Another shot rang out in the room. Enough for the licker to hesitate sinking its teeth in your flesh. It erupted in flames as He came closer, holding a fucking flamethrower in his hand. It screamed. Its weight disappeared and you scrambled back on your hands and arms, pain shooting through them in the movement as blood, old and new, smeared along your palms. The smell of burning flesh, nothing like the sweet scent cooking but more ashen and decay, filled your nose, alongside the metallic under layer of blood, your blood.

The screams died as the licker did, flames simmering down into nothingness alongside its charred and blackened skin. You forced yourself to sit up, groaning in pain. Everything hurt. Your back, your shoulders, your arms especially -- but you couldn't tell if that's because of how heavy you hit the ground or that damned fucking mark that threatened to burn your own arm off.

He cursed, repeated fucks and shit expelling under breath as he made it to your side. "Here, you're okay, you're okay, I got you."

He pulled out some medical supplies from within his packs. A bottle of hydrogen peroxide. A roll of bandages. Without thinking, he reached for your bleeding arm.

And the burning stopped, his touch instantly dropped your arm into a freezing chill as his eyes took in the teeth marks ripped in your skin, the bloodied feather and its tiny ravens, ink gradually running clear. You shivered and he did a double-take on you, hand shaking as if he too was dropped below zero.

A moment paused into an eternity as you caught your breath. In the darkened room with broken flickering lights overhead, dark shadows chiseled his face in sharp angles, despite his youthful look. Stands of light golden blonde hair clung to his forehead, dirtied with grime and sweat. Blue eyes swept over your features, just as you did to him.

Even in this mess, he was handsome, pretty even. Heat licked your cheeks as your mind wandered on how pretty would he be cleaned up…

"You’re the goddamn idiot,” you muttered under breath, face heating from embarrassment. Talk about a dramatic First Meeting.

"What?" the stranger asked, strangely breathless. "Hey. Are you okay?"

His eyes widened, blues roaming between your arm and your face again. You didn't answer him, but you said a bit louder, "It’s you."

"It's…me." Words he repeated, but laced with a question. Like he didn’t realize who he was to you. Not until the remaining half an outline of the feather, barely just visible, disappeared entirely as he laid another glance on it.

Nothing. Like you were never marked at all.

“Oh…”

He knew now.

"Yes, you! The kind of idiot that strolls into an infested city of the undead!" you said, words streaming from your lips in a hiss, holding back your scream as he no longer knelt frozen before you and worked to disinfect your wound. Unwanted tears pricked at the edge of your eyes; you lied that it was because of the sting of the disinfectant, not frustration nor relief to see him. "You were safe up until today!"

And you could have been okay dying with that knowledge!

He tied the bandage tight, too tight, and you winced from the pain. “Sorry,” he apologized softly, even as his lips pressed into a thin line. “But I had my duty. I couldn’t leave the city without helping.”

You slapped his hold on you away -- he let you go easily -- and forced yourself to your feet. He followed you quickly, arms reaching out to steady you as you swayed and stumbled onto your feet, sliding on gore and fluids, legs trembling in pain and useless adrenaline. His grip on your arms were tight, hands warm and comforting.

"Right… Duty.” The word tasted like blood in your mouth. You’ve seen enough people die for the sake of duty; you’ve seen others die for less honorable reasons. Something hot burned down your grime-streaked cheeks. “And I was leaving. I was leaving," you confessed. “I couldn’t, not with you here. Guess we’re both the idiots here.”

A faint chuckle, akin to puffs of air more than anything, left his lips. Slowly, as if you were a spooked cat, his hands found your cheeks, thumbs running comforting wipes along the trails left by your tears. You tried not to lean into his touch, craving that comfort from him selfishly.

"Thank you." It's soft, embarrassed even as his eyes gaze just a little out of your reach, and his cheeks tinted with pink.

"Don't thank me yet,” you scoffed, “Now we can die together."

Another laugh. "Fair enough. It's not safe out here."

"Duh, Mr. Obvious.”

But he smiled like nothing happened, a cheeky little grin that warms you even further. Oh shit, he's cute. "It's Kennedy, actually. Leon Kennedy," he said, introducing himself.

You gave yours, rolling your eyes as he repeated it reverently.

"We're going to get out of here alive. I swear it," Leon promised with such conviction you believed him. “Okay?”

He waited until you nodded to release your cheeks, but not before his eyes lingered on your lips. As if you didn’t share the same thoughts. Later, later.

Instead, Leon grabbed your gun from off the floor. Relief settled your limbs as your hands found the familiar metal of your handgun. Silently, you reloaded, as he did the same, hands reaching for his shotgun.

Not dead yet, still a chance.

Taking a deep breath, you grinned at him as fake confidence steered your lips, "Alright then, pretty boy, lead the way. I got your back."

"Pretty boy?"

#resident evil fanfiction #seles writes #leon kennedy x reader

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cower-before-power · 7 months

Text

Sweet Tooth

Summary: Needing a break from the absolute drag that is your bitchy cousin's wedding, you slip outside for some air. Luckily for you, a cute waiter and a stolen bottle of champagne are ready and waiting to sweeten your night considerably.

Pairing: Modern AU Connie Springer x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,684

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, drinking at work, dub-con (because Reader and Connie are tipsy), implied/referenced sexual content (including unprotected sex, outdoor sex, sex with someone you barely know, oral sex/cum eating), horrible horrible sex puns involving food, rusty writing.

A/N: HEY LOOK MA, I WROTE SOMETHING!! I started this fic ages ago, but only had the motivation to finish it recently thanks to joining The Coffee Corner discord server. This is for their Slice of Life collab, I hope you enjoy some funny Modern AU adult Connie, thank you for reading, likes and (especially) reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️.

————————————————

You breathe a sigh of relief as you slip outside into the refreshing evening air. The thumping of music and sounds of people talking dull as the door clicks shut behind you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like weddings. It was just that you didn’t like this wedding.

Your cousin had always been a spoiled brat, a pouty, whiney thing that threw tantrums whenever something didn’t exactly go her way. They two of you had never gotten along, and you knew your parents did not exactly like that side of the family. But they wanted to avoid being reamed out for the next 20 years, so when the invitations arrived, your dad checked off “Yes” with a what could only be described as a world-weary sigh.

You knew she didn’t actually want you there. It was a chance to show off, to show how wealthy her poor (and dumb) husband was and how lavish of a wedding she could throw. If there was one thing that stayed constant, it was her need to always be the center of attention.

“Need a light?”

You whirl around, hand clutching your chest as you come face to face with bright eyes and a toothy grin. Your heart does a strange ga-lump that has nothing to do with being startled; it’s him.

The guy you’ve had your eye on all night, one of the only bright spots in this whole wretched affair. You’ve dubbed him Cute Waiter in your mind, his boyishly charming good looks and happy-go-lucky demeanor like a beam of sunshine through the gloom. He wasn’t assigned to your table, sadly, and you’d been wondering how you would be able to strike up a conversation with him.

Seems like something good may be coming out of this night after all.

“I-I don’t smoke,” you shake your head, frantically trying to reclaim a tiny bit of composure. “Just out for some fresh air.”

“Oh, my bad,” he says cheerfully, stowing the lighter he’d been holding out back into his uniform pocket. “It is kind of stuffy in there, isn’t it?”

You sigh in agreement. “And loud. And mentally exhausting. If my cousin rubs it in my face one more time that she’s married and I’m still “hopelessly inept” at finding love, I’m not responsible for what will happen next.”

Cute Waiter laughs, loud and jolly like he’s auditioning for the role of Santa in a school play. It’s surprisingly adorable. “Yeah, because love is totally in the air tonight.”

You giggle at his words. “She claims it’s love, but trust me; their marriage came to be because of money and the fact my dear cousin does not take no for an answer.”

Cute Waiter leans against the wall of the venue, hands tucked into his pockets as he continues to flash that mega-watt grin. “Yeah, I got the vibe. Wanna make bets about how awkward their night’s gonna be later?”

You snort. “I’m certain she’s just been laying back and thinking of platinum credit cards and shopping sprees for the last two years, and that poor bastard has no idea. He’ll probably be convinced it’s a night of romance while she’s planning the layout of their new mansion in her head.”

Cute Waiter shakes his head, chuckling. “Damn, are we sure they have a chance? Maybe I’ll be serving food at their divorce party. Or his funeral after she murders him for the dough.”

Your face hurts from how much you’re smiling. “Is it bad to say I hope so? The food is very good.”

“Niccolo is quite the whiz in the kitchen,” Cute Waiter agrees genially. “You can’t get much better around here.”

Almost in slow motion, you see your opening being laid out before you. Bolstered no doubt by the two glasses of wine at dinner, and encouraged by the fact he was just so cute and funny, you make your move.

“Of course, I also hope it would mean I’d see a certain man I’ve dubbed Cute Waiter again.”

The man in front of you blinks, eyebrows raising as his face morphs into an strange expression of surprise and amusement. “Cute Waiter, you say?”

“Yes,” you nod, determined to see this through now that it’s underway. “I’ve been wondering how I could get a chance to talk with him all night, but he’s been very busy.” You feel your face warming under his hazel stare. “Imagine my delight to find he’s not only cheerful and good looking, but extremely funny and easy to talk to as well.”

Cute Waiter’s cheeks bloom a lovely shade of pink. “That’s-wow. The prettiest girl at this wedding just-do you really-I mean, thank you,” he stutters out, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Connie.”

You duck your head shyly at his compliment, your own name murmured softly as you try to calm your thrumming heart. “Hello, Connie.” You stick out your hand out, heat now racing down your neck as you inwardly cringe at your own awkwardness.

Connie grins, taking your proffered hand in a gentle grip. You try not to think of how warm his hand is as his fingers curl around yours. “I think I liked Cute Waiter better.”

You could probably cook an egg on your face at this point. “Well, it’s still a true sentiment anyways.”

Connie chuckles. “You’re good for my ego.” His gaze drops to your still clasped hands. You stammer out an apology, attempting to snatch your misbehaving limb back, but to your surprise (and excitement), he grips your hand tighter.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your eyes widen as your heart gives an excited thump. “What? Right now?”

Connie nods, eagerness rolling off him in waves. “I’m thinking you, me, and that massive bottle of expensive champagne I saw on the gift table deserve to get to know each other a little bit better. Preferably away from the god-awful vibes this place is giving off.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, but there’s no denying the thrum of excitement beneath your skin.

“You wanna skip out of work, steal someone else’s booze and run off with a girl you’ve known for all of 10 minutes?”

Connie grins. “If that girl is you, then hell yes.”

Laughter bubbles up from your chest like fizz in a soda can. “Then lead the way, Cute Waiter.”

And that’s how you find yourself down by the lake, sprawled out on a stolen tablecloth, tipsy giggles escaping the both of you as the champagne bottle is passed between you. Your animated chatter fills the twilight hour, talking about anything and everything. Connie is easy to talk to, open and free with what feels like a genuine interest in what you have to say. It’s nice. You don’t want it to end.

“This stuff is horrible,” Connie hiccups, shaking his head as he hands you the bottle. “Why do rich people have such garbage taste in alcohol?”

“I like it,” you grab the bottle from him, hugging it to your chest as if it was a beloved teddy bear. “It tastes like sunlight in a bottle. Maybe I’ll serve it at my wedding. If I ever get one.”

“You will,” Connie states matter-of-factly. “You’re super smart, pretty, funny, and nice. The only thing that sucks about you is your choice of drink. This shit is worse than pond water.”

You gasp in mock offense, your stomach doing somersaults at his compliments. “Okay, you are not invited to my hypothetical wedding, Mr. Meanie! How dare you insult the nectar of the gods?”

“Nectar- sweet mother of mercy,” Connie snorts, wrinkling his nose as you take another sip. “You’re too drunk to think straight, next thing you know you’ll be telling me you loved that horrible monstrosity your dear cousin calls a wedding dress.”

“I’m not drunk,” you giggle, “just a little tipsy. And no way am I ever wearing a dress like that. She looked like an over frosted cupcake-and that’s being nice.”

“Mmmmm cupcakes,” Connie sighs, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “Damn it, should’ve nicked some food, I’m hungry now.”

“Oh! I can help, one sec,” You wiggle around so you can reach your handbag, rummaging around until you find what you’re looking for. “Tada! Emergency Twinkies. I stashed some in case the food here was garbage, thankfully it wasn’t at all but you never can be too careful.” You nod sagely at the boy beside you.

“Shit, are you an angel?” Connie breaths, eyes going big and dopey as he takes the proffered treats. “Twinkies? A bunch of Twinkies in your bag. Just in case.”

“I always carry one at least,” you feel your heart going all gooey at his starry-eyed amazement. “You never know when you’re going to need a snack.”

Connie groans, low and deep in his throat, and you squirm at the sudden heat pricking at you. “You are literally the most fucking perfect girl. I am so glad I picked up this shift.”

“I’m glad I came too,” your smile is threatening to break your face in half, but you just can’t help it. There’s just something about Connie that makes you feel warm and blissful, like the first sip of perfectly prepared coffee as it bursts on your tongue.

You stare at each other, silly grins and hazy eyes and all the hope of youthful infatuation.

You don’t know who moves first.

What you do know, is that Connie kisses like he laughs; full, deep and with purpose. His mouth is warm and sweet with lingering champagne, and you whine as he cups the back of your neck to push you even closer to him.

Maybe it’s the buzz of the alcohol, or the sweet song of the crickets, or the thudding of your heart when Connie licks into your mouth like he’s going die if he doesn’t taste every inch. It could be the thrill of being desired, the delicate bloom of two young hearts connecting as if you were in some sort of sappy fairytale. You don’t really know, nor do you really care.

But you let Connie lay you down on the tablecloth, let him ruck your fancy dress up, let him touch you until you’re trembling like the leaves in the warm spring breeze.

“This ok?” He’s got one hand beside your head, the other stroking your inner thigh gently. “I uh-this wasn’t my intention, not right away anyways, but like, you’re so fucking cool and hot and I really really like you and-”

“Yes, ohmygosh yes,” you interrupt his rambling, clutching at his shoulders desperately. “I’m good. Fantastic. Wonderful. And very horny, so please hurry up.”

Connie huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you as you help him free himself from the confines of his pants. After that, only the soft light of the nearly set sun is the witness to your bodies meeting, your groans and sighs carried away on the gentle summer breeze as you let yourself drown in pleasure.

When you’re both spent you lay beside each other, panting and grinning as your heartbeats slowly return to normal. You feel floaty, fizzy with satisfaction, like you’ve downed that whole damn bottle of champagne in one gulp. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good at the hands of another, and you can feel yourself itching to grab the man beside you and have him do it again.

Suddenly, a thought niggles it’s way into your fuzzy brain, and you snicker loudly.

“I hope that’s not in response to my performance,” Connie reaches over to pinch your cheek affectionately.

“No,” you titter tipsily, swatting his hand away. “I was just thinking….now I’m a Twinkie.”

Connie scrunches his eyebrows. “What?”

A snort leaves you. “I’m a Twinkie….because now I’m filled with cream.”

You dissolve into fits of giggles as his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Ugh, no fair!! You can’t make jokes like that!” Connie digs his fingers into your ribs, grinning as you shriek in surprise. “Not unless you want me to fall in love with you!”

You squirm away from his questing fingers. “Slow your roll there, cowboy,” you warn, but your heart is light and your skin is tingling. “At least take me on a date first!”

“I suppose,” Connie sighs dramatically. “But you better reign in that charm! One more stashed snack or raunchy joke and you might never get rid of me.”

The thought isn’t unpleasant. “You better not come home with me and look inside my bedside drawer then.”

“Oh?” Connie waggles his brows suggestively. “Whatcha got in there, hmmm? Some Skittles and flavoured lube? Fuzzy Peaches and fuzzy handcuffs? Edible candy panties? Please say edible candy panties.”

You laugh as you sit up, feeling for your bag. “Why don’t you come over after work and see? Assuming you still have a job, that is. I don’t think you’re supposed to drink and have sex on the clock.” You shimmy in triumph as you fish out your phone. “Here, give me your number, Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex.”

Connie smirks, grabbing your phone as he sits and pulls his own out of his pocket. You take it eagerly. “Don’t worry, I’m still employed. Niccolo owes me like a million favors, considering I’m the reason he and his fiancé, aka my best friend, are even together. That’s why I even have this job.” He winks, handing your phone back. “Ah, the joys of nepotism.”

“Sexy,” you giggle as you swap phones. You smile when you see what he’s saved his contact as: Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex. Part of you feels a sense of disbelief; did you really just hook up with a hot, sweet, funny guy at your cousin’s wedding? And now you’re getting his phone number? After all the shit you got tonight for being the lonely single loser?

Take that, you frigid bitch.

Connie looks at his phone. He groans loudly as he reads what you’ve typed in. “You saved yourself as Twinkie ❤? Damn, woman! I’m never gonna be able to eat those delectable golden treats without popping a stiffy now. I’m rising to half mast right now just looking at this.”

You reach over and toss him the forgotten package, rolling your eyes playfully as it smacks him in face. “Down, boy. Eat your treat like you originally planned.”

Connie tosses the snack away, and you shiver as a hungry look flits across his genial face. “Yeah, these are not gonna cut it anymore. I wanna stuff my face with a different Twinkie now.”

Your insides twist violently, molten heat trickling down your spine at the implication of his words.

“Ohmygosh,” you groan, already whipping your phone back out to text your parents you’re heading home. “Fuck the rest of this, we’re going to my place. Now.”

Connie pumps his fist in the air as he jumps to his feet. “Hell yes! Do I have a horseshoe up my ass today or what?” He makes a show of trying to look behind himself, as if his behind might actually be sporting one.

Your face feels like it will break in two from the force of your smile. “Just order us a damn Uber, you goof.”

Connie salutes and begins typing rapidly on his phone. You stand, adjusting yourself to contain the mess that’s currently trying to drip down your legs. “Damn. Should have grabbed napkins along with that booze. I’m leaking like a broken facet over here.”

Connie’s phone is already in his pocket, and your heart thumps happily at the warmth of his hand as it slides into your own.

“I’m all the cleanup you need, babe,” he winks, tugging you gently into his chest. You look up at him, all smiles and flushed cheeks, mischief dancing in his adoring gaze. You don't know if you've ever felt so alive, so free, so ready for wherever he takes you.

“After all," he lowers his mouth to brush teasingly against yours, "the cream is the best part of a Twinkie.”

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #attack on titan fic #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyojin fic #shingeki no kyojin imagine #slice of life collab #my writing

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hamsterclaw · 2 years

Text

Decent

You help Jin out when he needs it, because he seems like a good guy. You're not expecting him to want to stay in your life.

Pairing: Seokjin x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol AU, smut, angst

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Sex, swearing

You eye the besuited man who’s standing in front of you, breathless and sweaty.

He’s good-looking, despite the fact that he looks a little flustered right now.

‘Can I help?’ you ask. You put a bit of warmth in your expression to temper the briskness of your words.

It takes him a moment to calm enough to speak.

‘Someone’s stolen my wallet and phone. Could I use your phone?’ he asks.

You push the phone towards him. ‘Feel free.’

He picks up the handset then pauses. He’s got an expression that’s all too familiar to you.

‘Can’t remember anyone’s numbers?’ you ask, sympathetically.

He shakes his head, frustrated.

‘Where do you need to go? Can I call you a taxi?’ you offer.

‘I don’t have any cash on me. I was going to go to a hotel,’ he tells you.

You look at each other.

He looks so forlorn, standing there with his rumpled suit and his bag in one hand, that you find yourself feeling sorry for him.

‘Listen, I’m off in twenty minutes. I can take you to where you need to go,’ you offer.

He looks like he’s going to reject your offer, so you point out that it’s 1am, and that most places are closed.

Luckily, Berna, the girl who’s taking over from you, arrives early so you can leave.

You look at the man sitting on the spare chairs. ‘Come on. I’ll take you.’

You walk with him to your tiny hatchback, parked in the employee car park.

‘She’s old, but she gets me there,’ you say, jokingly, as he fastens his seatbelt and you start the engine.

He looks at you.

Finally, he smiles. ‘Thank you for giving me a lift.’

‘Don’t worry about it, looks like you had a shit day. I know all about those,’ you tell him.

You plug the address into your GPS and head for his hotel.

‘I’m Jin,’ he says.

You look over at him. ‘I’m Y/N,’ you reply politely. ‘You don’t mind a little music, do you?’

He shakes his head.

You put on the radio and leave it playing softly. This time of night, the station you prefer plays jazz. It’s calming.

‘How are you going to contact anyone?’ you ask.

‘I’ve got a meeting with a friend tomorrow. I know where his office is,’ Jin says.

You nod. ‘Good.’

It’s a twenty-minute drive to his hotel, and as you pull up outside it you admire how fancy it is.

‘How are you going to pay for this?’ you ask, concerned.

‘It’s paid for on my credit card,’ Jin tells you. ‘I’ve got my passport on me.’

‘Want me to wait until they let you check in?’ you offer.

Jin hesitates. ‘Would you mind?’

You park the car and walk with him into the hotel. As you head to the reception desk you see how the desk clerk straightens up as Jin approaches. He’d taken time in the car to straighten out his suit, run his fingers through his hair. He looks pretty polished.

You lean against the counter, facing away, whilst Jin checks in.

He shows you his keycard for the room. ‘Thanks for waiting,’ he tells you. ‘I can’t thank you enough for helping me out.’

You smile. ‘Don’t worry about it. You looked like you could use a hand.’

You reach into your wallet and take out some money. ‘Hey, I should give you this. Just in case you need it in the morning.’

Jin’s holding up his hands. ‘No, I couldn’t take your money.’

‘It’s only money,’ you say. You fold it up and pass it to him. ‘Look, you can pay me back if you want to. I’ll give you my number or my address or something.’

Jin looks at you, and you can feel him relenting.

You give him your number and press the cash on him.

‘Don’t do anything dodgy with it,’ you warn, jokingly. ‘Emergencies only.’

Jin laughs.

You throw him a small smile and a wave, and head back home.

***

You wake up in your small apartment to banging on the door. Half asleep, you dash to the front door and swing it open.

Shit. It’s your landlord, Ji-Hoon.

‘Rent was due yesterday,’ Ji-Hoon tells you, unceremoniously.

You nod and reach for your wallet.

You pull out the money and pass it to him, yawning as he counts it off.

‘You’re a hundred short,’ Ji-Hoon points out.

‘Shit. Sorry.’ You remember giving Jin the money last night, or was it early this morning?

‘I can get you the money today. I just need to get to the bank,’ you tell Ji-Hoon.

He gives you a doubful look, as though you haven’t always paid your rent on time thus far.

‘Pinkie swear,’ you throw in.

Ji-Hoon snorts in disgust. ‘Are you five? Fine. Drop by with the cash at the end of the day.’

You nod. Now you’ll have to go to the bank before your shift at the coffee shop.

You take a shower and get ready for work because you’re awake anyway.

You’re halfway through your shift when your phone pings with a message.

Unknown number: It’s Jin. The guy you helped last night. I wanted to return the cash you gave me and say thank you.

You text back your location.

Y/N: I’m doing a shift at a coffee shop, you can stop by if you want?

You’re closing up by the time Jin arrives. He’s wearing another suit, you’re getting the sense he wears suits a lot.

His hair is styled, and he looks almost intimidatingly polished.

‘Hey,’ you say warmly.

He smiles at you. ‘I didn’t squander my emergency money.’

You laugh. ‘Did you manage to sort everything out?’

He nods. ‘Yes, thank you. Yoongi helped.’

You’re assuming Yoongi’s his friend that he was planning to meet in the morning.

Jin hands you the cash you gave him.

‘Thanks,’ you say.

He hesitates, a little awkwardly. ‘Are you finishing work? Can I take you to dinner?’

You say, ‘Oh, you don’t have to---’

‘If you don’t have plans, I’d like to,’ Jin tells you. He smiles. ‘I just want to thank you.’

‘I’m free for dinner,’ you say. ‘I’m glad you didn’t suggest getting coffee.’

Jin laughs. ‘I figured you might not want more coffee after a shift here.’

You smile. ‘I live down the block. Would you mind if I stopped by home beforehand? I just need to freshen up.’

Jin walks with you to your apartment. You see him taking in the dated décor, the cracked tiles on the floor.

‘It’s not fancy but it’s clean,’ you say.

Ji-Hoon’s standing outside your apartment when you get there. He looks at you and Jin.

You can’t blame him. Jin looks pretty out of place standing in this shabby place in his probably designer suit. It fits him beautifully.

‘Rent,’ Ji-Hoon says.

You roll your eyes. ‘Here it is.’

You fish into your bag and pass him the extra hundred you owe him.

‘Don’t be late again,’ Ji-Hoon tells you.

You try hard not to roll your eyes again.

‘Yes, sir,’ you say. The mocking tone of your voice seems to escape Ji-Hoon, or maybe he doesn’t want to tangle with you when you’ve got tall, broad-shouldered Jin standing behind you.

Either way, he buzzes off.

You let Jin into the apartment and pour him a glass of water. ‘I’ll just be five minutes,’ you tell him.

Jin accepts the water. ‘Did you give me your rent money?’ he asks.

‘I have more money in the bank,’ you tell him.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Jin tells you. ‘I could have been anyone.’

You look at him, surprised. ‘But you paid me back.’

‘You didn’t know I would,’ Jin says.

‘I couldn’t leave you with no money and no phone,’ you point out, reasonably. ‘It was the right thing to do.’

‘Besides,’ you continue. ‘You didn’t seem like –’

‘Like what?’ Jin asks.

‘You seemed decent,’ you say. You go into your bedroom, not waiting for a reply.

When you come out, Jin’s looking at the photos on your coffee table. He doesn’t comment on them, though.

‘Ready?’ he asks.

‘Yeah.’

You sling your bag over your shoulder and head out.

***

Jin takes you to a sushi place. Once you’ve ordered he sits back.

‘I can’t thank you enough for last night. I was in a real bind and I really appreciate your kindness.’

You wish he’d stop thanking you.

You put your hand on his. ‘Honestly, Jin, I would have done it for anyone. You looked like you needed help.’

Jin frowns a little. ‘There are some people who might take advantage of that.’

You look at the tabletop and take your hand off his. ‘I can look after myself,’ you tell him.

‘Is your landlord normally that aggressive?’ Jin asks.

You laugh. ‘He’s normally more aggressive! Having you there really made him hold back. He woke me up today banging on the door.’

You smile at Jin. ‘You should come and hang out everytime the rent is due.’

‘He’s not allowed to treat you like that,’ Jin says.

You shrug. ‘He’s not the worst person out there.’

You change the subject. ‘So how was your meeting with your friend?’

Jin tells you about his friend, Yoongi. Apparently they went to university together, before Jin moved to Europe. He’d just flown in from Munich when he was robbed and asked for your help at the bus terminal you work at.

‘Are you in town long?’ you ask, curious.

‘I’m probably going to spend longer and longer here. I’m going to transition to run my business from here instead of London,’ Jin tells you. ‘It’s close to my family, my friends.’

‘Sounds like a good plan for the future,’ you say.

You insist on buying Jin dessert after the meal once you hear about his sweet tooth.

He walks you back home as you eat your ice-creams.

You stop outside your run-down building.

‘Thank you for dinner,’ you tell him politely. ‘And for bringing my money back.’

Jin looks up at your building. God knows what he thinks about it.

‘Can I call you?’ he asks.

‘Sure,’ you say. ‘You know where I am too, if you want a coffee.’

You can’t believe that a gorgeous, well-dressed guy like Jin is interested in someone like you. He’s probably just being nice, or feels like he owes you for being nice to him.

‘I’ll see you, Jin.’

You smile, then turn to enter your building. You don’t have any expectations that you’ll see him again.

***

You’re wiping down counters at the end of your shift at the coffee shop when the door opens. You turn around to say that you’re closed. The words die on your lips when you realise it’s Jin.

He’s smiling at you.

It’s been a couple weeks since he took you to dinner. You hadn’t expected him to get back in touch, so this is a bit of a surprise to you.

‘Hi,’ you say, smiling back.

‘How’ve you been?’ he asks.

‘Good, and you?’

You check everything’s switched off and grab your bag.

‘I’ve been good,’ Jin tells you. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite somewhere?’

‘Sure,’ you say. ‘I don’t have much time before my shift at the bus terminal, but I’d love to.’

Jin and you get dinner at a noodle bar close to the bus terminal.

‘You look tired,’ Jin says, watching as you slurp your noodles.

You dab a napkin against your mouth self-consciously. ‘Stop watching me. There’s no graceful way to eat noodles.’

Jin laughs. ‘Sorry.’ He takes a mouthful of his own bowl.

‘How’ve you been, Jin?’ you ask. The last time you had dinner you found out he runs a tech company. Tech’s not really your area but he sounds like he’s good at it.

‘I’ve been getting settled in. Things have changed a lot since I was last here.’ Jin looks out the window. The bright yellow lights of the bus terminal flatter him. Who are you kidding? Everything flatters him. The man looks like he was born to be beautiful.

You’re so busy watching him you don’t realise he’s watching you back.

‘What are you doing this weekend?’ he asks.

‘Working some of it,’ you say. You take a sip of your drink. ‘I’m going to try to look for a new place. Ji-Hoon’s annoying.’

‘Did he do anything?’ Jin asks. There’s a frown line between his eyebrows again.

You reach out and smooth over it with your thumb. You pull your hand back as soon as you realise what you’re doing. Luckily Jin doesn’t seem to mind.

‘No, I thought about what you said the last time. I don’t want to live somewhere where someone bangs on my door for rent money.’

Jin nods. ‘I can help if you want?’

You laugh. ‘You just moved back here. How can you help?’

Jin laughs too. ‘I found a place. I’m in the process of moving in now. So I have recent experience of looking for a place.’

You smile. ‘Nothing beats experience, I guess.’

‘I’m having a housewarming thing on Sunday night. I wondered if you might want to come.’

‘Sounds great,’ you say.

‘I’ll look forward to seeing you,’ Jin says.

You glance at your phone. ‘I should probably go. Text me your address.’

‘See you Sunday, Y/N.’

***

On Sunday night, you’re standing outside Jin’s building, holding the cactus you’ve bought him, wondering if you’re in the wrong place.

He’s in an upscale part of town, and his building looks hyper-modern.

A blond man glances at you as he passes. ‘Are you going in?’

‘I think I may have the wrong address,’ you say, ‘I just need to double check.’

You sense him taking in your casual clothing, the cactus in your hands.

‘You’re not Y/N, are you?’ he asks.

Your eyes fly up to his. ‘I am. I’m here for Jin’s housewarming.’

He smiles at you, warmly. ‘I’m Yoongi. Let’s go up together.’

With Yoongi by your side, you feel less intimidated walking into the warm, beautifully decorated lobby.

‘Jin’s told me a lot about you,’ Yoongi says, as you wait for the lifts.

‘He’s told me about you too,’ you tell Yoongi. ‘He was really pleased about getting to work with you again, about moving back here.’

‘We went to university together,’ Yoongi says. The lift doors open, and he gestures for you to enter ahead of him.

Yoongi’s looking at your cactus.

‘Too prickly?’ you ask.

‘Out of all my friends, Jin’s the most likely to be able to keep that alive,’ Yoongi says. ‘It’s a good choice.’

You grin. ‘He might enjoy that more though,’ you reply, nodding to the bottle he’s carrying.

Yoongi smiles, and his face goes from intimidating to endearing. ‘It’ll be nice for Jin to have something that reminds him of you. Whereas when this is drunk there’ll only be a hangover and regrets.’

‘It looks like a good vintage, don’t be so hard on yourself,’ you kid.

Yoongi laughs. The lift doors open again, and you both look at the numbers on the wall, trying to work out where to go.

Yoongi knocks on the door, and Jin opens it. He looks as gorgeous as ever, in a cashmere polo neck that flatters his broad shoulders and slim waist.

Jin greets Yoongi with a hug, and smiles down at you, with what seems like genuine affection in his eyes.

‘Is this for me?’ he asks.

You hold out the cactus. ‘Yoongi said you’d be good at looking after it.’

‘I didn’t say he’d be good. I said he’d be the best out of my friends,’ Yoongi says.

Jin rolls his eyes at Yoongi.

‘Thank you,’ he says, smiling warmly at you. ‘You didn’t need to bring anything. Come on in.’

Jin’s apartment is huge, modern like the rest of the building but also somehow warm. He’s got a stunning view of the city from his living room.

Jin gets you a drink.

‘I’m glad you made it,’ he says.

‘I wanted to assess your tastes before letting you help me find a new place,’ you tell him. ‘I have to say, I think this is a little beyond my price range.’

Jin grins. ‘We’ll find something that works for you,’ he promises.

Jin’s housewarming is chilled, more casual than you’d expected given how gorgeous and expensive his apartment is. Yoongi and Jin take turns by your side, and you’d cope without them, but it’s nice having someone next to you.

Yoongi introduces you to another tall, tattooed man called Jungkook.

He smiles at you, friendly. ‘How’d you meet Jin?’

‘Oh, I helped him out when he was in need one day,’ you say, casually.

‘How do you know him?’ you ask.

‘I’m working on a project with Yoongi. I met him last week,’ Jungkook tells you.

Yoongi eyes Jungkook narrowly. ‘My sister sends her regards, Jungkook.’

Jungkook smiles. ‘Tell her I miss her. How’s little Jun?’

Yoongi smiles, and again, it transforms his face. ‘Jun’s doing great. Jimin’s over the moon.’

‘My nephew,’ Yoongi explains, at your enquiring look.

He shows you a photo on his phone.

‘Cute,’ you say, smiling at the chubby baby picture.

‘You’re cute,’ Jin says, looking at you.

You miss the look Yoongi gives Jin. Jin’s not known for overt displays of affection.

You look up from the photo just in time to see Yoongi and Jin looking at each other.

‘Did I miss something?’ you ask.

Jungkook grins at you. ‘Come on, I’ll get you another drink.’

***

You’re heading into work when Seokjin calls you.

‘Hey, Jin,’ you say, hoping he can hear your smile.

‘Hey, what are you up to tonight?’ he asks.

‘Working,’ you tell him. You turn into the car park and park up and get him off speaker.

‘Mind if I drop by?’ Jin asks.

‘Well, I finish at 1am, do you want to meet up after?’ you ask.

‘Won’t you be tired?’

You yawn. ‘I probably will be, but I don’t mind staying up. We can watch a movie if you want to come over.’

‘I don’t want to be a bother,’ Jin says.

‘If you can source some popcorn you’d be very welcome,’ you tell him.

He laughs. ‘Sure. I’ll come over.’

You step out of the shower to hear knocking at your door.

You tuck a towel around yourself and go to open it. ‘I’ll only be a couple secs, Jin,’ you say, waving an arm. ‘Make yourself at home.’

Jin smiles, and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. ‘Don’t get dressed on my account.’

‘I thought you were a good boy, Jin,’ you say, turning to head to your bedroom.

‘I can definitely be good to you,’ Jin returns.

You laugh.

By the time you’re dressed, Jin is sprawled on your couch, a bowl of popcorn and some drinks on the coffee table in front of him.

He looks delectable in a big chunky knit sweater and soft-looking trousers. He’s got glasses on. You hadn’t realised he wore glasses.

Jin lifts up an arm, and you sit down under it. He hasn’t been this physical with you before, but you like it.

He tightens his arm around your shoulders, and you lean into him.

‘You smell good,’ he tells you.

You turn to him. His face is so close your lips are almost touching.

‘If you want to kiss me, Jin, take your glasses off.’

Jin smiles and takes them off. He sets them on your coffee table and leans into you.

His lips feel as plush as they look. He tastes minty, sweet. He tugs at your top lip, and you open your mouth to let his tongue in.

Jin obliges, swiping into your mouth to taste you. He tilts his head to slant his lips over yours. You curl your arms around his neck, and he pulls away to kiss a fevered trail down to your chest.

‘I told you that you didn’t need to get dressed,’ he says, smiling at you.

You tug up the hem of his chunky sweater, and the thin t-shirt below it does nothing to hide the solidness of his chest.

Jin pulls his sweater off and tugs you closer, into his lap. Your legs spread to accommodate him, and you can feel him, hard and solid under your core.

You run your fingers through his floppy hair as he kisses down your torso, stopping to kiss each of your breasts. You roll your hips over his, and he laughs softly.

‘Can I touch?’ he asks, fingertips touching the lacy edge of your panties under your shorts.

‘Come to bed, Jin, and I’ll let you touch whatever you want,’ you say.

Jin follows you to your bed. You unbutton his jeans, slipping them down over his hips, and he tugs your shorts, letting them slide down to your ankles.

Then his fingers are on you, stroking over your hip. He cups you over your panties, the tips of his fingers pressing into you shallowly. You roll your hips into his palm, and Jin smiles, lips curving against the skin of your neck.

‘Like that?’ he asks.

‘You can feel that I do,’ you reply. Your hands are under his t-shirt, sliding over his chest. He hisses a little as you rub a thumb over his flat nipple.

Jin settles between your legs, lifting himself slightly so his weight isn’t fully on you. His hardness presses against you, and you moan at the feel of him.

Jin isn’t vocal in bed, you’re realising. You get your answers about how he feels from the changes in his breathing, the way his hands stroke over your skin and tighten over your flesh.

It makes it all the more touching when he says your name as he cums, like he can’t help himself.

‘Feels good, Jin,’ you whisper to him. He strokes his thumb over your clit, working to get you there as he pumps the last of his cum into you. You cry out as you cum, and Jin grunts, pressing sloppy kisses over your lips and cheek.

He lets you take his weight briefly, then he’s lifting himself off, lying beside you, face buried in your neck.

He stays like that for a moment, breathing you in. ‘I’ll get you a drink,’ he says. He gets up, and you’re tickled by the way he pulls his briefs back on before he leaves. His body is amazing, lean and fit, and the shape of him makes you suck in a breath.

He’s beautiful.

Once you’re back in bed together he strokes your hair back from your face. ‘Can I stay?’ he asks.

‘Stay as long as you want, Jin,’ you say. You smile at him. ‘Come on, let’s get some sleep.’

***

You’re awakened by banging at your door.

You blink awake, disoriented. Beside you, Jin stirs, and everything comes back to you.

‘Don’t worry,’ you tell him.

You get up and hurriedly pull on some clothes.

It’s Ji-hoon. ‘Rent’s due,’ he tells you, brisk.

‘It’s Saturday,’ you protest.

‘Didn’t you read the memo I put near the entrance?’ he asks. ‘It’s due today.’

‘You can’t just change –‘ You start arguing then realise it’s pointless.

‘I’ll go to the bank and get the cash out and give it to you this afternoon, Ji-hoon,’ you say. ‘Also, I’m moving out. Consider this my month’s notice.’

Ji-hoon scowls at you. ‘There’ll be a late fee.’

‘The hell? No. I’ll pay you the usual amount as soon as I come back,’ you tell him.

You turn when you hear Jin coming out of the bedroom.

‘It’s all right, Jin,’ you tell him. ‘Go back to bed.’

Jin walks up to you and Ji-hoon. ‘She’s not paying a late fee.’

You realise he’s fumbling through his wallet. You put your hand out to stop him. ‘Don’t worry about it, Jin, I can sort this.’

Jin looks steadily at Ji-hoon. ‘How much?’

Ji-hoon tells him, and to your mortification, Jin hands him the money out of his wallet.

After Ji-hoon leaves, Jin turns to you. ‘I’m sorry. There was no reasoning with him. It’s only money.’

You nod. ‘Thanks. I’ll pay you back.’

‘I know you’re good for it,’ Jin says, teasing. ‘Unlike you, I don’t give money to random strangers.’

‘You seemed decent,’ you say. You crack a smile.

Jin waggles his eyebrows at you. ‘I clearly haven’t defiled you enough.’

‘There’s more time for that now,’ you return.

Jin laughs and lunges at you. You squeal and dart away. He chases you back into the bedroom.

You let him pin you on the bed and defile you.

***

You’re at work when your phone lights up. It’s Jin.

‘Hey,’ you say, ‘did you get back home ok?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I missed you.’

Your stomach flips at the warmth in his voice.

‘You could always come and buy a bus ticket,’ you say, jokingly.

Jin laughs. ‘I’ll buy two so we can go somewhere together.’

‘I found another place. Want to help me move?’ you ask.

‘Yeah,’ Jin says. ‘Anything to get you away from your awful landlord.’

‘This weekend?’ you ask.

Jin sounds regretful. ‘I can help on Sunday, but I’ve got a dinner to go to on Saturday.’

‘Ah, no worries then. I’m working on Sunday. Maybe next week.’

‘How are you going to move your things?’ Jin asks.

‘I don’t have many things,’ you say. ‘It’ll be fine. It was mainly your company I was after, not your muscles.’

Jin laughs.

‘Hey, I have to go, but I’ll speak to you soon,’ you tell him.

You’re thinking of him long after you get off the phone.

***

You’re hanging up a picture in your new apartment when your buzzer sounds.

It’s Jin, with his pretty smile and a bouquet of flowers in his arms.

You have to smile at how gorgeous he looks, standing in your doorway, holding out the flowers to you.

‘Thanks, these are beautiful,’ you say, reaching for them.

It’s only after he hands you the flowers that you notice he’s in a tux.

Holy hell, does he make it look good.

‘You didn’t have to dress up to see me,’ you tease.

He laughs. ‘I’m on my way to this gala Yoongi’s family are hosting.’

‘Sounds fancy,’ you comment. You pull out a vase for your flowers.

‘I’d rather be here with you,’ Jin tells you. He tugs at his bowtie, leaving it slightly crooked around his neck.

‘You’re too pretty to just stay here with me,’ you tell him, straightening his bowtie. He smiles down at you.

‘Can I come here after?’ he asks.

‘To sleep?’ you ask, feigning innocence.

‘We can do whatever you want,’ Jin tells you.

You laugh. ‘Come over whenever, Jinnie.’

***

It’s past midnight when Jin turns up at your door, bow tie undone, a bottle of champagne in his hand.

‘What are we celebrating?’ you ask.

He follows you into the kitchen to get glasses, so close you can feel the heat off his body.

‘Your new place, of course,’ Jin says.

He puts the champagne down on the counter. You turn to face him, and his face is very close to yours.

His kiss is gentle, soft, like he only just wanted a taste, like he doesn’t mind if it doesn’t lead anywhere.

You curl your arms around his neck, pressing your body to his.

His hands fall to your ass almost instantly, cupping you, pulling you into him.

The anticipation of him is unbearable.

‘Let’s go in the bedroom,’ you whisper to him.

Jin smiles, lazy, sexy. ‘Can I see your bed?’

You shed your silky robe as you step into the bedroom.

‘Beautiful,’ Jin breathes. He’s barely looked around, eyes focused on the thin silky top you’re wearing, the panties underneath.

‘Too many clothes,’ you tell him, helping him unbutton his shirt. He slips off his jacket easily, going for his belt as you expose more of his chest.

Jin licks his lips. He kisses a path along your neck, tugs the strap of your top off your shoulder so he can keep going. Your left breast is exposed, but he doesn’t give you time to feel cold, warm hand coming up to cup it, thumb flicking at your nipple.

You moan, and Jin pulls you closer. ‘You sound pretty,’ he tells you. ‘So pretty.’

He lays you down on the bed, dipping his head to nibble at your nipple with his teeth.

His hand dips below the waistband of your panties, cupping you. His fingers curl into you, longer and thicker than your own, but not nearly enough. The friction of his palm on your clit makes you moan again.

Jin moves his hand, in slow strokes, rubbing over your clit, sliding into your slick.

You realise your hands are free to stroke over his chest. You curl one hand around his erection, and he sucks in a breath.

‘Get inside me, Jin,’ you tell him.

Jin fumbles into the pocket of his trousers for a condom whilst you tease him, stroking between your legs, spreading them wide so he can see how wet you are for him.

By the time he enters you, you’re so close you feel you could cum right away.

He curls a strong forearm under your knee as he fucks into you. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he thrusts.

‘Jin,’ you cry.

He looks at you, concentrating on your face now, adjusting the angle of his cock to hit you just right so you make the sounds he loves to hear.

He knows the moment you start cumming, closes his eyes to savour the feel of you tightening around him.

‘Beautiful,’ he tells you, voice strained now. ‘Beautiful.’

He circles his hips, thrusting slower now, squeezing the flesh of your thighs as he cums.

You laugh breathlessly as he collapses next to you, planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

Jin turns you to face him. ‘All this because you helped me out one day,’ he says, grinning at you.

‘Fuck. I can’t believe I thought you were a decent guy,’ you tease.

Jin just laughs. ‘I’ll take care of you,’ he promises.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, trying to sit up.

‘Yeah,’ Jin affirms. His hand snakes around to squeeze your ass.

‘Let’s start right now,’ he says, lowering his lips to yours in a kiss.

#bts smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #btscarnivalnet #bts fanfic

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